


The Shadows of the Forest

by Element_of_Fabulosity



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: AU - fem!Shin-ah, Gen, Ghosts, Supernatural Elements, because there need to be more rule 63 works in this fandom, canon compliant aside from genderbending, ghosts everywhere, minor spoiler character not tagged, no beta readers we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Element_of_Fabulosity/pseuds/Element_of_Fabulosity
Summary: AU: fem!shin-ah. A novelization of the Lushing Blue Forest chapters, exploring what transpired from Shin-ah’s point of view.It was an easy job that no one could mess up: gather firewood, so Yun could cook dinner. But when Shin-ah finds a mysterious statue in the forest, it sends her tumbling down a rabbithole of grief and vengeance centuries in the making.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quite some time ago, I decided I wanted to write a fic that took place during the Lushing Blue Forest arc for Halloween.
> 
> That didn't happen.
> 
> Still, I managed to finish it eventually...for a given value of "finish". I'm still not quite satisfied.

It’s rained recently, Shin-ah thinks as she picks up a branch. The underside is flecked with mud, but the wood itself has dried enough to burn. Or so Shin-ah supposes; she has reasons to doubt her own judgement on this. She has shamefully little experience, as the dangers of smoke meant that torches were the largest flames permitted in the caverns of her childhood. Even those were considered risky in some of the tunnels; candles were preferred by those who could afford them. Shin-ah had simply bundled up in more discarded clothes and blankets and furs to ward off the chill.

It seems to rain a lot here, Shin-ah decides. Tucking the small bundle under one arm, she wonders if the Water Tribe is named for the drizzle that seems forever an hour away, or if it’s just a coincidence.

Shin-ah pauses mid-sweep of the forest floor. There’s a statue of a dragon, mouth open in a silent roar. She walks over to inspect it, Ao darting ahead. Just over waist-high, the statue’s blocky base is covered in moss, while the dragon itself is mostly clear of it. It’s  _ old:  _ the stone is perfectly smooth in some places and chunks are missing from its tail. The tip of one horn is broken off, the edges rounded by wind and rain.. Ao bounds up the base and the tail, scampering up the crumbling spine to the dragon’s head. She chitters.

Shin-ah tilts her head, inspecting the statue. Parts of it are more or less shielded from the elements: the inside of bent forelegs, the bottom of its chin. Tiny scales cover both. Someone must have spent hours -days? Weeks?- chiseling this out. Yun will know who built this, or Zeno will, Shin-ah thinks. Ao slides off the dragon’s muzzle and between chipping teeth.

There’s an ugly, scraping  _ creak. _

The dragon’s jaw is closing.

Shin-ah moves without thinking, yanking her sword from its sheath and bringing it down on the statue’s neck. The clash of steel on stone sends shockwaves up her arms and rattles her teeth. The head pitches sideways, lands in the soft ground with a  _ thump _ . There, in a granite tunnel, lays Ao, bright-eyed and unharmed.

Shin-ah can breathe again. She scoops up the ridiculous squirrel and sets her at her shoulder, before sheathing her sword. She reaches up to scratch Ao’s ear as she turns to go-

-there is a rushing of wind like the roar of some great beast, rattling Shin-ah’s bones and too late she sees the shadow looming over her and-

-the trees aren’t swaying, is her last thought, and then she knows no more.

* * *

Shin-ah's eyes open to  _ grey. _ This, she realizes too late, is the first thing that is strange about her circumstances. When has she had to open her eyes before seeing? If she can see through the solid oak of her mask, she can certainly see through the thin flesh of her own eyelids.

For that matter, where  _ is _ her mask? Her wolfskin? Her sword?

...she'll figure it out later; right now _where_ she is is more worrying. Looking around, Shin-ah sees only grey. Shapes, blended almost perfectly into the backdrop, lumber past. Shin-ah sees more and more the longer she looks. What she first thought was emptiness isn't that at all- it's a sea of these things.

They almost have faces- misshapen, twisted things that might have been eyes and gaping jaws half-melted from skulls. They part around her. Ice brushes Shin-ah's arms, and she jerks away. She cranes her head high as she can, looking for anything. There's nothing. There's no horizon to be found. The ground stretches up and up, blending into what cannot be sky.

Shin-ah pivots, flinching from the things crawling past, taking in nothing at all.

It's all the same. An unending, colorless sea of-

Spirits, some forgotten voice finishes for Shin-ah. Nestled in the heart of a mountain, they were a natural subject for overheard midnight tales to tend toward…

Shin-ah’s heart clenches as she seizes on a new thought. Perhaps she’s died. Perhaps this is what Hell looks like.

_ I couldn’t have- _

All it would have taken was an arrow; she hadn’t been paying attention to anything but Ao-

_ No. I would have had time to bleed, time to scream, time to  _ see-

Shin-ah picks a direction and starts walking.

* * *

Shin-ah walks for a long time. There has to be an end. Or...or someone else besides her. She tries to ignore this feeling, like she's at the edge of a precipice, like she's porcelain and cracks are spiderwebbing through her. Something, Shin-ah tells herself. Anything.

_ I can’t be  _ dead-

She keeps walking.

It must be some time later that Shin-ah wonders how far she's come. She twists her head to glance back. Her feet falter. Everything looks the same. There's nothing, not even footsteps, to mark her progress. Shin-ah peels off a glove, tosses it to the misty ground, and keeps walking.

She glances back again, a moment later. The gloves lies there, a dark break in the grey. Perhaps seven paces; she’s making progress after all. It ought to be heartening. She keeps walking. There has to be an end to this place.

It's cold, moreso without the weight of her wolfskin and mask. Shin-ah tugs the fur collar of her robe up-

Leather grazes her neck. Shin-ah lifts her hand. Stares. She'd taken off that glove, hadn't she? Left it, back...

Shin-ah looks back. Nothing but grey. Shifting things that are shimmers of air at first glance. Her mind is playing tricks on her. She rips off the glove and sets it on the ground. Tucking her hand under her other arm against the cold, she starts walking again.

Without the sun -where  _ is _ the light coming from, anyway, if there is no sun?- there is no way to measure the time that passes. It could be seconds or hours or...

It can't have been days. Shin-ah would have grown hungry. Except the dead don't eat, that slithering voice murmurs. Shin-ah falters again. She's not dead, she tells herself. She can't be-

She breaks into a run.

Her lungs aren't tearing themselves apart and her legs aren't burning with exhaustion. Her feet make no noise as they slam into the ground. Shin-ah runs and runs and-

She catches it in the corner of her eye. Her glove is back, but that's impossible because she left it behind. She  _ remembers _ dropping it, twice now.

Worn leather sits there on her hand, defying all sense.

Is this what madness feels like?

Shin-ah's knees buckle. Her spine curls and her shoulders drop and everything is crushing her all at once- the  _ where _ and the  _ how _ and  _ why, _ and above all the stark truths that there is no end, no door, no one but her-

Tears slip down Shin-ah's cheeks, slow at first, faster as the walls that have held for so long splinter and crumble. Shin-ah begins to sob in earnest, shoulders quaking, coughing around mucus and tears. She lets herself fall to the colorless ground, and there she lies for a long time.

* * *

Shin-ah doesn't realize when something shifts. She doesn't notice the noiseless footfalls, and the looming figure casts no shadow over her.

A hand hovers over Shin-ah's shoulder, then retreats.

"Seiryuu...?"

Shin-ah flinches at the murmur as though it's a shout. She scrambles up and-

Two pairs of molten-gold eyes meet. One bloodshot and swollen, one translucent until the light hits them just right.

_"Ao,"_ Shin-ah says. So many years she had forgotten his face, memory dimmed to a waterfall of uncombed hair- but she recognizes him now; she could never _not_ _ \-  _ she blinks at the ghost. Her eyes begin to water anew; her lips tremble without voice. Her terror is confirmed...yet not a terror at all now. She is dead, but she is not alone.

Ao blinks down at her. "Um. Kid. Seiryuu-"

Whatever he had been about to say, it's lost, because at that moment Shin-ah leaps forward, arms closing around the one closest to a parent she's ever known-

_ Cold _ lances her. It's like diving into a half-frozen lake in winter, icy frigidness so sudden and harsh it hurts-

Shin-ah lands in a heap. She gets up, rubbing her elbows where they took the impact. Ao is standing above her. There's something in his eyes now- it takes Shin-ah another moment to recognize confusion that matches her own. She can't tear her eyes away from Ao, though she hangs back. Ghosts, she reminds herself. They're both ghosts now.

Ao works his jaw, blinks. "You've...um. You've grown."

Shin-ah doesn't know what to say to that- it's been fourteen years. Of course she's grown. They're almost the same height now. Swallowing back a sob, she manages a nod.

"How..." Ao trails off.

Shin-ah looks away. How did she die? She swallows, wets her parched lips. "I don't...I don't know. Ao was..." She stops, her mistake realized. Does Ao know about his namesake? Will he...she remembers so little about him, she is ashamed to admit. Will he be angry that she named Ao after him? She pushes it aside, to address later. "There was a statue, in the forest and..."

Her voice fails. Shin-ah remembers the statue's mouth closing around Ao. Remembers panicking and swinging her sword, heading back to the campsite and...nothing else. Her next memory is waking here. Shin-ah's eyes lift to meet Ao's. "I don't know how I died," Shin-ah whispers.

Ao snorts. He closes the space between them, swipes his hand through the air and his fingers pass through Shin-ah's cheek like he's made of mist or she is. Shin-ah jerks away at the chill.

"Whatever you are- you're not a ghost." Ao's brows knit together. "But you're here. Somehow."

Shin-ah rubs her cold cheek. She's less sure, but Ao must know more than her. He's been dead for a long time, after all. And this brings her full circle: where is she? And how did she get here?

Ao scratches his chin. "I suppose you want to go back, yeah?"

Shin-ah nods. "My friends-" she pauses, as a memory surfaces. Tears brim at her eyes. She wrings the edge of her glove. "Ao. I did make friends. Even with my power...they...they still like me."

Ao's eyes widen. His jaw slackens, a little  _ oh _ of surprise on his mouth, and then he's _smiling._

Shin-ah doesn't remember him smiling before, ever. She can't stop staring.

"Then we need to get you home to them," Ao says. There's something wrong with his voice, a hoarseness like he's been coughing too long.

Shin-ah can't stop herself- she's walked so long, and she's found nothing. "How?"

Ao turns, beckoning for her to follow. "There's one person here who might be able to answer that."


	2. Chapter 2

It began with the sound of the world cracking in half.

He floated and then _soared_ upward, into blinding daylight. There was a person _-a living human-_ standing there and he thought no more but dove for them, a wordless battlecry piercing stillness-

...perhaps his haste had been a mistake. He looks at the sword's blade. His reflection, off-color in the strange, dark metal, gazes back. He lifts a hand, and the pad of the finger presses against a fleshy lip. Joints bend, and he revels in this sensation too. The physical touch -taken for granted by the living- is...

He doesn't know a word for it.

Amazing, he decides after another second. It’s a strange word. _Wonderful_ and _beautiful_ are likewise foreign; he had never heard them in his lifetime. They came secondhand, odd concepts applied to the alien world called _outside._

Beneath the pink lip -healthy pink, not the blue-purple of frostbite, not sunken by starvation- a fang peers out. An unnecessary confirmation of a fact that lies uneasy on his heart.

_Another of our own._

This feeling isn't regret. It isn't even close. He is standing in the sunlight, an impossible dream come to life. He has been freed and upon that, brought _back..._ and there was a sacrifice made. He will not deny it. One soul ripped out, another in its place. For anyone else, he wouldn’t spare a thought, as he knows well they wouldn’t for him. But for her…for kin…

He offers an apology, and a promise not to waste this dearly-paid for chance, to the sky, and can only hope that it follows her...wherever she has gone. There is nothing else he can give, and so he turns back to the reflection that is...less than ideal...yet more than he ever hoped for.

His hand rises further. The mask covering the upper two-thirds of his face is _old,_ he can feel that just by the wood’s smoothness under his fingers. Polished by nothing but age: Blue Dragons never care about their looks; another effect of being forced into isolation nearly from birth, from being cut off from society and looked down for generation upon-

No. No more. He is free now from that non-existence. The air is crisp on his forehead and cheeks when he lifts the mask by the horns. The wind carries some scent with it, hardly noticeable until he concentrates. He drops the fur thing draped over his head -he isn't sure _what_ it's supposed to be, it's long and it's sewn from the skin of some animal, maybe a blanket?- onto the ground. He flips the mask over to eye the front of it.

Perhaps its creator thought to make themself look like a demon. He thinks they hint more at cattle...and oh, isn't _that_ hilarious? He sneers wordlessly, and for a long moment wants to fling the mask against the broken statue just to see it smashed.

He does not. He will show respect to his own. For blood's sake and for the favor he now owes her. Despite the wood’s age...it isn’t rotting. Tiny chips at the edges have been smoothed and painted over. The leather bands are in good condition; likely recently replaced. It takes a longer moment than he will admit to find the layers of red paint that have to be there; someone was incredibly careful about repainting those marks when they began to fade. For some reason he can’t work out...she treasured this mask. He sets it on the ground, next to the thing that might be a blanket.

The sword he will keep, he thinks. He isn’t stupid enough to go wandering about unarmed. His eyes don’t count; they’re strictly a last resort. He’ll learn to wield it, learn to fight. “I’ll die of old age this time,” he whispers, pressing a hand to his side, where…

_Don’t think about it. It’s over and gone._ “A second chance,” he breathes. He looks ahead, to an endless amount of trees. Really a fresh start, then. He steps forward-

His foot hovers over the ground. He looks back at the statue’s head, lying on the leaves. Forces a smile. “Sorry. But I’m sure you guys can take care of yourselves now.”

And then he sets off, into the world.

* * *

"Who?" Shin-ah asks.

Ao doesn't look over at her as he speaks. "Someone who's been here a very long time. Centuries and centuries. He must've seen something like this in his time; you can't be the only person ever to show up here still alive."

He didn't answer her question, Shin-ah thinks as she hurries after. Cold wisps follows in Ao's wake, like he brings winter with him. He doesn't wait for the streams of half-formed spirits to part, instead wading through them. Shin-ah tucks her arms to her sides and follows.

"What are they?" Shin-ah asks, her eyes fixed on something half-melted. It might have been a face once. Even as she watches, it bursts into mist and dissolves into the air.

Grimacing, Ao motions Shin-ah forward. "You don't want to know, kid."

_Kid._ The title brings to mind memories all but forgotten. Shin-ah peers at Ao's back, and tries to see herself as Ao does. Fourteen years is a long time. The last time he'd seen her, she was four years young and so painfully naive...so innocent. She had no blood on her hands yet. "Ao," she says. It takes her another moment to find the words for the truth he doesn't see. "I'm not a kid," she mutters.

Ao just watches, his expression unreadable.

Her face grows warm, and she ducks her head.

Ao sighs. "The spirits here are the ones who haven't passed on to their next lives. Bound, I guess, by spite. Hatred. Anger. Unfinished business." He makes a sweeping motion, as if to encompass the whole world. "They're the one's who've forgotten everything. What they did, where they lived, so on and so on. Their identities, I s’pose you could say. Their _names._ There's nothing left of them, but still they won't or can't pass on."

Shin-ah shudders. She can't stop searching the ocean of spirits swirling around her after that. Wondering, _who were you? Who were you?_

They twist and writhe silently in reply.

"Seiryuu, look."

Shin-ah looks up from hands that disperse back to mist as soon as they are formed, hands outstretched for something. "Shin-ah," she says. She straightens at Ao's confusion. Squares her shoulders. "My name is Shin-ah."

A smile flickers over Ao's face. He claps Shin-ah on the shoulder, and she yelps at the chill. "There," Ao says, pointing. His eyes narrow. "That bastard. He's the one who brought this on us all."

Shin-ah glances at Ao and back at the figure. Her power must be weakened here- she can make out almost nothing of the figure, except maybe shoulder-length hair. Their back is turned. The color is faded from their clothes and hair until they blend into the background.

Ao's mouth dips. "The first Blue Dragon. Seiryuu Abi."

* * *

There's a cracking of twigs just as Jae-ha is about to go look for Shin-ah. "Oh, you've retur-"

Jae-ha's voice trails off as he takes in Shin-ah. Her mask and wolfskin are gone. Her eyes are exposed to the world. They’re like gemstones, a hundred different hues gleaming in the sunlight. It's...something, to say the least.

"Ryokuryuu. How do you feel?"

It takes Jae-ha a moment to realize Zeno's addressing him. "What?"

Zeno clasps his hands behind his head. "You've always wanted to see Seiryuu's eyes; your dream has come true."

"Oh, right..." Jae-ha frowns. He hums. "How do I put this? Now that it's come to this, I don't know what to do. Sure, they're golden eyes, beautiful beyond belief...but you see, lately I've discovered that forcibly trying to look at the eyes Shin-ah hates and her saying things like _stop, don't look_ and _don't come_ is a rare delight-"

At Yun's raised eyebrows and Zeno's hardening expression, Jae-ha stops. ... _oh,_ he thinks, as it hits him exactly how he sounds. His mouth opens as he flounders for an explanation that doesn’t end with a black eye- he isn’t like _that,_ he would never-

Zeno levels a stony glare at Jae-ha before he can say anything. "You're gonna die from heart failure soon.”

Jae-ha shivers. He doesn't like the way Zeno says _heart failure._ Like Gi-gan so graciously pointed out to him once, it still counts as failure if your heart has stopped because it's been impaled.

Yun clears his throat. "Shin-ah's face is always covered with a mask, and seeing her without it is quite a sight."

Kija bobs his head. "I'm happy about it," he declares. He turns to Jae-ha and Zeno. "It means that Shin-ah sincerely trusts us. You must not make such a big fuss over it. Be quiet."

...ha, Jae-ha thinks. He inches further away from Zeno, while Shin-ah strides into the campsite. Is her demeanor different? Jae-ha wonders. Or is it simply that she's been looking down at them this imperiously the whole time, but nobody saw because her mask was always in the way?

Kija beams at Shin-ah. "Your eyes really are beautiful."

"Hakuryuu's the one most incapable of being quiet," Zeno snickers.

"He has an illness of babbling everything he's thinking aloud," Jae-ha replies.

Kija tugs at Shin-ah's arm. "Shin-ah, come here-"

Shin-ah yanks her arm away. Gemstone eyes blaze. "Don't touch me, _servant."_

That _is_ different- enough that the strange insult is an afterthought.

Kija lowers his hand. His smile falls. "Oh. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? I couldn't control my strength-"

"There's no way the strength of your flinging, good-for-nothing right arm could hurt me," Shin-ah snaps. "Fool."

Four sets of eyes stare.

Kija staggers away from Shin-ah. She gazes at his back, expression cold and aloof. Kija drops onto the ground and motions the others over. Humoring him, Jae-ha drops cross-legged to the ground and sets his chin in his palm. Kija's eyes are grim. He looks as though he's planning the siege of a fortress as he tucks his robes neatly under himself.

"Now begins the council of the Four Dragon Brothers," Kija announces. "The topic: Shin-ah's rebellious phase."

"Now things are getting interesting," Jae-ha says. While Kija ropes Yun into the so-called council, Jae-ha finds his gaze drifting toward Shin-ah. She's standing some ways off -still well within hearing range- just...glaring at her hand, or something in it he can’t see. She must catch Jae-ha's eyes on her, because she drops her hand and glares at him instead. She doesn't blink. Her eyes are stunning, the way they catch the light. Her expression is unnerving.

"-let us hear your opinion, Jae-ha," Kija is saying.

Jae-ha drags his attention back to the current White Dragon. "Why me?"

"You went through a rebellious phase in Awa, right?"

Jae-ha's gaze is flat. _Rebellious phase?_ So many -too many- years on a path that was anything but straight, healing so many wounds, reinventing the fragmented child who cowered from and yelled at Garou-

-Kija was sheltered. Extremely so. He doesn't know that he's trivializing _a literal half_ of Jae-ha's life- still, Jae-ha can't keep the ice from leaching into his voice. "Who was in a rebellious phase now?"

Zeno laughs. "Don't worry about it. Those who rebel just a little grow up to be honest in the future."

Kija frowns. "What? Are you saying I had a distorted upbringing?"

"Hakuryuu's honesty is unyielding and knows nothing of distortion! Ryokuryuu kept warping himself and had a fresh start after being worn down, so now he's the delightful big brother. But that's all because he was too pure."

_Pure?_ Jae-ha wonders how much Zeno really knows. If he's somehow even more in the dark than Kija. He reaches toward the oldest Dragon, forcing lightness into his voice. "Alright Zeno, you can be quiet anytime now-"

Kija turns to Yun. "What about you, Yun? Did you ever rebel against the priest?"

Yun grimaces. "You don't need my story."

...interesting. Jae-ha would not have guessed Yun had it in him.

After a pregnant pause, Kija swings toward Zeno again. "Anyway, is Shin-ah repulsed by the fact that she's too pure like Jae-ha was?"

Jae-ha lifts his hand. "Hey, Kija-"

Zeno bobs back and forth, that effervescent smile somehow still there. "These kinds of things are like typhoons. Once it passes, she'll be back to the kind Seiryuu she was before!"

"I see," Kija says, nodding. "We should face Shin-ah with open hearts."

This, at least, is sensible. Jae-ha stands, stretching. Before he can go set up the tent, Kija marches toward Shin-ah. "Shin-ah! Right now, are you in pain?!"

Shin-ah stares flatly at him. Jae-ha wonders if Kija has somehow missed the entirety of the conversation.

"You must not be defeated! Do your best!"

Yun pinches the bridge of his nose. Releases a sigh unique to mothers everywhere. Zeno’s grin falls halfway, and he shakes his head as if to say _this is something he has to figure out himself._ Jae-ha busies himself with unpacking the yet-unassembled tent, an eye and an ear on the debacle before him.

"You can do it! In times of trouble, roar at the sun! Be one with the earth! You don't have to be number one! If you can be that one special person from the start, you can-"

Shin-ah's fist collides with Kija's jaw. "Shut up," she snaps.

Kija’s hand finds his jaw. Koi eyes bug at Shin-ah.

Shin-ah’s lips curl. “You're annoying."

Like a lost puppy, Kija stumbles back toward Yun. His voice is hollow. "How strange. She punched me."

Yun doesn’t even look up from scooping rice into cold water. After the first hour, he’d gone and gathered wood himself, grumbling about _if you want something done at all, apparently_ the whole time. "It's okay. I would have punched you for that just now, too,"

"...I see," Kija manages.

Planting the first pole in the ground, Jae-ha snorts. "Well, it'd be best if we just left it alone. Act _natural,"_ he adds, pointedly, to Kija. He starts untangling the rope. "Shin-ah, could you help me set up the tent?"

Shin-ah saunters over. Briefly, Jae-ha weighs the risk of asking if her cycle has come. She's sure to punch him, which is great, and Kija’s equally likely to faint as he is to start screeching about impropriety, which is better...but still. Jae-ha does have _some_ restraint. He won't embarrass Shin-ah if she's this angry. Yet. He starts setting up the next pole, sliding it through loops in the canvas and pushing it into the ground-

In a single motion, Shin-ah draws her sword and brings it down. The blade slashes through the half-assembled tent, canvas and poles and rope and all.

"Wait a second, Shin-ah!" Yun shouts, as pieces land on dirt. Jae-ha is still holding a length of rope and one of the shorter poles. He looks up at Shin-ah, any words lying broken with the wreckage. Her lips are pressed in a hard line. Her hands grip her sword so tightly her knuckles are white. Something is wrong.

Yun sounds close to hysteria. "Just what do you think you're doing?!"

Shin-ah sheathes her sword, still glaring daggers at the ruined tent.

Something is _wrong,_ Jae-ha thinks again. Something more serious than mood swings. Is this a cry for attention? What could have made Shin-ah this furious...or is it not fury at all? Jae-ha has seen people grieve in many, many ways...and gods, he hopes that isn't the case. "Calm down, Yun," Jae-ha says, his voice tight. He winds the rope and sets it down. "We shouldn't get mad without hearing her out."

Yun looks to Shin-ah, but she offers no explanation.

Jae-ha’s voice lilts. "She wants us all to sleep outside, without a tent in the cold night, and laugh at Kija for being scared of bugs...that's all it is."

It's the oldest tactic in the book. But Shin-ah doesn't get defensive or upset or shake her head _no._ She keeps staring at them all, eyes hard. Unblinking and silent.

"That tent..."

Yun sounds angrier than Jae-ha has heard him in a while. He looks like he's on the verge of tears.

"...wasn't free, you know? I stayed up all night sewing the cloth together for that tent."

There is a pause, as Yun’s words -the _hurt_ inside- settles over them like thunderclouds gathering over the sea. Then it breaks. Zeno bows so fast he’s a blur of yellow, a stream of apologies coming just as fast, and Kija does a full ceremonial kowtow that ends up looking absolutely ridiculous.

Jae-ha’s bangs fall over his face as he bows to Yun. “We’re sorry,” he says. _Please don’t keelhaul us._ He waves Shin-ah over, earning a glower and a single arched brow. "Shin-ah, apologize to mother!"

"Who's your mother?!"

Nobody pushes with an answer to that. Yun huffs, pink tinging his cheeks. He looks at Shin-ah. "Anyway. Since we all live together, you should do your part properly. Shin-ah, I told you to gather some firewood, right? Did you bring it back?"

Shin-ah's eyes narrow. She says nothing.

"It's useless to just glare at me!" Yun snaps.

"Shin-ah!" Kija pipes up. He marches toward her. "Even if you're in your rebellious phase, you should still listen to Yun-" Kija breaks off. He tilts his head. "Shin-ah," he says, after a moment, his voice strange. "Where did Ao go?"

"Ao?" Shin-ah repeats.

"Yeah. Where's your friend?"

If anything, Shin-ah's voice grows colder. "Who knows what that is?"

...what? Jae-ha thinks.

Kija steps forward. Every line of his body has tensed. In a low voice, "Who...are you?"

* * *

Seiryuu Abi barely skims the ground as he strides toward them, cloak snapping around him without a wind. His eyes, too, are brightest gold, with vertical pupils like a cat's that are close to round in the dim light.

Abi's gaze skims over them both. His eyes narrow at Ao. His lips curl. "You. Did I not tell you to leave me be?"

Ao sneers. "Thought maybe you could help the kid."

Tossing his head, Abi glances at Shin-ah. Though they stand level with each other -Abi might even be shorter- Shin-ah feels as though he's staring down his nose at her. It reminds her of the way some villagers watched her. Abi's brows rise somehow higher. "You. You're _alive."_

He says _alive_ the same way someone else would say _stinking, rotten carcass._

Shin-ah nods once. She wants to say something- some biting retort. Her voice has left her.

"And why," Abi asks, "should I help you?"

"We're all Blue Dragons, aren't we?" Ao growls, stepping forward. He towers over the first Blue Dragon. "That counts for something."

Abi snorts. "I owe you no allegiance." He moves to leave.

Shin-ah lunges without thinking. Her hand passes through Abi's fluttery sleeve. She catches herself, shivering.

Abi glances back at her.

"Please," Shin-ah says. "I...I want to go home."

Abi's eyes flash. "Home. _Home,"_ he repeats, lifting his chin skyward, glaring at something Shin-ah can't see. "Oh, what a _tragedy."_

Something splinters inside Shin-ah. "My friends are waiting for me," she whispers.

"Aren't they always?"

Ao snarls something under his breath.

Shin-ah steps closer. Goosebumps cover her arms. So close to the ghost, she is shivering. "Please," she says again. This is her last hope- she'd run and run looking for a way out and found nothing, and Ao knows as little as her. "Do you-"

Abi whirls. "Figure it out on your own, and leave me in peace!"

Shin-ah winces. Ao curls his hands into fists.

Abi glides away. His shout echoes in Shin-ah's ears.

She's trapped here...she'll starve and join the legions of ghosts. She knows already what her fate is- another half-formed shade in an ocean of them- she will not pass on; how can she forgive herself for not saying goodbye? Yet of course she didn't say goodbye; she had only gone to gather _firewood-_

Abi has almost vanished from sight.

Shin-ah charges after him. She shouts. Abi turns, brows arched, face schooled to composed anger.

"You were the first Blue Dragon," Shin-ah says. She doesn’t have to pant through the words. "You must have known Zeno-"

"Don't talk to me about that bastard!" Abi roars.

Shin-ah flinches.

Abi's chest heaves, though surely he can't need to breathe. He closes his eyes, draws a long inhale, and opens them again. He begins to stalk away-

Shin-ah takes another step toward him. "You served Hiryuu."

Abi looks back at Shin-ah. Something has shifted in his expression. His voice is far too level. "I did. What of it?"

There are eggshells here. "Did you...you cared about him, right?"

Abi's teeth are grit. "What are you implying?"

_Reincarnation_ means the same soul. Another lifetime, but the same _person._ Shin-ah cannot imagine that Hiryuu could have been anything other than the kind of person Yona is. Warm and sunny and impossibly kind and-

"You must have been friends," Shin-ah says before she can stop herself.

This seems to startle Abi. At least, it takes a moment before he schools his expression into something flat and wary. "What does it matter to you?"

"Hiryuu was reborn. Her..." Shin-ah stutters, as the temperature plunges. Abi's eyes are wide. His nostrils flare. Shin-ah pushes onward. She doesn't take her eyes off Abi. "Her name is Yona. I want to go back to her."

Abi sneers, flashing pointed teeth. "I wanted to stay by his side forever and then he-" He stops. Works his jaw. "I don't care. The world doesn't give a damn about _what you want."_

Shin-ah knew that, all too well. "It's...it's Hiryuu." Yona. Hiryuu. Another name, another lifetime, yet still the same person they both fought for. "It's still that...that precious person...isn't it? Even if you don't care about me, help protect _her."_

For a long time, Abi says nothing. He is a statue made of ice.

Shin-ah wonders if she has misstepped.

Abi's fingers twitch. _"Yona..._ you care about her."

It’s not a question. Shin-ah nods without hesitation anyway. Yona is the one who brought her out of the darkness and into sunlight. She doesn't know how to explain this to Abi- how Yona brings light everywhere she walks, how her smile outshines the sun and moon and stars. How inexplicably _important_ Yona is, above even Kija and Yun and the others. It pains Shin-ah to murmur this in her heart, as though she's backstabbing her dear friends and yet...yet she knows it is the truth. Shin-ah doesn't know how to say that, having found herself in this place, she is more sure than ever that she would follow Yona into hell itself.

Something must show on her face, because Abi's eyes soften. "Fine." He flips his hair. "Very well. Now, tell me everything you remember."

So Shin-ah does. Ao cuts in, more than once, as he explains what the Water Tribe is to Abi. Abi asks questions about the statue- what, exactly, was it made of? How large was it?

Shin-ah answers as best she can. She hadn't paid much attention; the statue had been a curiosity and nothing more until Ao had gotten herself trapped.

Ao splutters. "Wait, you said the squirrel went and-"

"Ao got stuck," Shin-ah says. Realization dawns on her. "She's a squirrel. I named her Ao."

Ao squints at her. "You named. A fucking _squirrel._ After me."

Abi makes a noise that might be laughter disguised as a cough. Shin-ah fiddles with her gloves. Yona had been right, when they first met. _Ao_ wasn't a fitting name, but...

"Of all the animals you could've gone and..." Ao throws up his hands. "A _squirrel._ You couldn't possibly have-"

"It was the most important name I knew," Shin-ah mumbles.

Ao stops. For a long moment, he gapes at Shin-ah. His mouth quivers; he brings his hand to it and then all of a sudden his eyes are shining with tears and his shoulders are quaking.

Shin-ah's eyes widen. "Ao...?"

Abi smirks. His eyes glitter. "I," he says, "am _never_ going to shut up about this."

"Fuck off!"

Shin-ah jumps at Ao's shout.

"Just think." Abi leans toward the other ghost. Makes a sweeping motion, as though he’s encompassing the whole of the horizon. "All of eternity lies before us."

Ao throws a punch at Abi, which Abi neatly dodges. He turns toward Shin-ah, his face grave once more. "But back to the matter at hand. I concur that you yet live. Or rather...you technically live."

Shin-ah frowns. Before she can ask what that means-

"So what the hell happened?" Ao demands.

Abi leans back. "Isn't it obvious?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be both my favorite and least favorite chapter. Kija's monologue, lifted straight from the manga, is hilarious. And also weird in a way that's hard to mimic such that characterization in copied and original scenes is seamless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, posting this took longer than I wanted. I've been busy irl, and then I decided to rework a section.

"There are those who say that when you die, you are judged by your deeds and rewarded with either heaven or hell. Paradise, or eternal torment. If such places exist, this realm is neither. No, this world is a sort of in-between. The cracks that so many souls fall into- we, the ones who will not let go of their mortal lives and let their soul pass onto its next lifetime.

"It's rare, but not all those who die find their way here. Some remain anchored, one way or another, to the realm of the living. They are the dead who haunt the dark places of that world, who lurk in the shadows. They find little rest. Yet... _little_ is not _none whatsoever._ It is possible for a vengeful spirit to be sealed, to be put in a deep slumber." Abi levels a finger toward Shin-ah. "You broke the seal that kept that soul slumbering. The spirit must have torn your soul from your body and slipped into the hollow shell that remained."

Heaviness slides down Shin-ah's throat and drops into her stomach. She can still feel the heft of her sword in her hands and the shock as stone cracked beneath steel. It had seemed like such a small thing. She hadn't thought...it hadn't occurred to her that the dragon statue could be something important...

Shin-ah can feel Ao's gaze on her. He's...worried, Shin-ah thinks. It's surreal.

Ao clears his throat. "Okay, great. How do we send her back?"

Abi folds his hands in his sleeves. "I do not know."

"You don't..." Shin-ah blinks away tears. She must have heard wrong. He is _ancient-_ he must have some idea. Ao had said it- she cannot be the one person in the world to accidentally release a spirit.

Abi gives a shrug. "I am sorry. Truly."

Shin-ah manages a nod. It's difficult to swallow; a lump has formed in her throat. If only, she thinks. Her hands curl into fists. All she had to do was pry open the statue's jaw and remove Ao. If only she hadn't been so stupid; if she had just _not panicked..._

Dampness slips down Shin-ah's face; she cannot stop it.

Yona and Hak had gone to hunt. Kija, Jae-ha, Yun and Zeno would have been at the campsite, waiting for Shin-ah to return. Shin-ah wonders if the spirit will go there. Will anyone realize it isn't her? Or will they be fooled?

Will they ever realize Shin-ah's fate? Will they mourn her?

Yona's tear-streaked face flashes through Shin-ah's mind, and it's like a slap to the face. She can't give up, Shin-ah decides.

This is what she knows: running will lead her nowhere. There is no end to this world.

"Abi, what..." Shin-ah coughs. She wipes her face on her sleeve. "What exactly anchors souls to the living world?"

There’s a grimace before Abi folds it away. "Regret. Hatred. Resentment. And so on-"

“Guilt,” Ao mutters.

Shin-ah blinks up at him. He...feels guilty? He’s done nothing.

...no. Nothing _that she’s aware of._

She turns away as though from a slap. The realization stings just as much: she knows so little about Ao. Practically nothing; he was close-lipped except to snap _try again._ She had to learn after all: how to skin a squirrel and cook it over a fire, how to wash her clothes in a river, how to get on your feet and keep fighting, and above all how to win without her eyes.

This is fixed in her memories: Ao was angry. But consistently so, and so less frightening than other adults to a young Shin-ah. _Guilty,_ describing him, is...new. Strange.

"Hey," Ao says. "Aren't the Four Dragons all s'posed to be connected?"

"We are," Abi says. "Rather, were, in our cases. It's connected to our power, passed on through every-"

He stops. His eyes land on Shin-ah. A cat-like smile unfurls. "Yes," Abi murmurs. "I do believe that will work."

* * *

Kija's question settles over the encampment.

_Who...are you?_

"...eh?" is all Yun can say. What does Kija...his mind skips ahead. Strange behavior. Old tales: skinchangers and trickster entities. _Fairytales._ But the Four Dragons are real; why not everything else? "This isn't her?"

"No." Jae-ha's eyes narrow. "But...it's still her..."

"The smell is right," Zeno adds. "This is Seiryuu."

Wait, _smell?_ Since when does- Nope. He doesn't want to know, Yun decides.

Kija's right hand twitches. He uncurls his scaled fingers. "But..."

Shin-ah gazes coolly at him. Now that the thought's there -now that he’s not focused on the firewood situation; she’s normally dependable so he’s annoyed, _bite him_ \- Yun can see all of the inconsistencies. Shin-ah would never be this comfortable as the center of attention. He can't imagine her... _basking_ like this, all eyes on her.

Kija's voice is just controlled. "If she erased Jae-ha from her memory, so be it. But to forget Ao? That's no longer Shin-ah. That's something that looks like her!" He steps forward. "Who are you? What happened to Shin-ah and Ao?!"

Everything happens too quick for Yun to react- the person who isn't Shin-ah does _something_ and Jae-ha and Zeno bolt forward and then-

_Eyes._

A full-body flinch wracks Yun. There's _pressure_ and his knees buckle-

Jae-ha is shouting, and then he stops. He and Kija are staring at Zeno but Yun's missed why. Zeno hasn't sprouted scales yet-

Zeno's arm. It's limp. Relaxed, at utter odds with the rest of him. "It's okay," Zeno says. Yun can't see his face. His voice is calm. Too damn calm. "I only lost my senses for a second." Louder, "that won't work on me. Hm...that was the first time I experienced Seiryuu's power."

_Me. I._ Yun is no idiot. He knows Zeno’s pattern now and _gods,_ he wishes he didn’t because that would mean they’ve never been in a situation where bad enough that Zeno dropped all pretenses-

Zeno rolls the kinks out of his arm, his voice like he's talking about the weather. "I had heard of it before, but this is what it feels like to see the illusion of a dragon eating you? I've lived for over two thousand years, but there are still things I have to learn. Zeno is still just a baby chick, baby chick."

He clasps his hands behind his head. "Now then...ever since we arrived here, I've been feeling a strange presence. Something is inside Seiryuu, huh?"

Kija starts. "Inside Shin-ah-?"

The thing possessing Shin-ah opens her mouth in a nasty smile. Gold eyes sparkle. Yun can't see the illusion, but Zeno slumps to the ground with a grunt. "Ah...this feels great," it says. The voice is right but the intonation is _wrong._ "What about you? What does it feel like, being torn apart?"

The blood drains from Yun's face. _That's_ what her-

"It's making me yawn," Zeno says.

Shin-ah's fingers twitch.

"It's a bother, so why don't you try crushing my heart?"

Even before he's finished the sentence, Zeno's body jerks. Like he's been impaled, Yun realizes. When Zeno topples backward, Yun almost expects to see blood.

"Zeno!" Jae-ha and Kija shout in near-unison. Jae-ha pulls Zeno toward him- Yun needs to get up. He's the closest thing to a doctor here, isn't he? He needs to check Zeno's pulse-

His legs collapse under him.

Laughter. Unfamiliar laughter. Yun looks up. The thing possessing Shin-ah chortles. "This is the best-!"

Shin-ah stiffens mid-laugh. Her eyes go wide. She collapses onto the ground, face hitting the dirt with a noise Yun doesn't like. Kija's head snaps toward her. "Shin-ah-!"

Zeno snaps up into a sitting position with a grunt.

"Zeno!"

"Has Seiryuu calmed down?" Zeno asks. Yun searches his face. No wincing- but that doesn't mean anything, he has to remind himself.

Kija frowns. "Stop doing things that are bad for your heart!"

"I would have died by now if this was enough to do me in."

How reassuring, Yun wants to say. It's only half-sarcastic. He staggers upright. The crisis passed, his heart rate is finally beginning to return to normal and his legs are no longer jelly. "Say...will Shin-ah be alright?"

Zeno hops to his feet with energy someone who just _should have died_ shouldn't have. "Yeah. The paralysis backfired just now, so she won't be able to move for a while." He looks down at Shin-ah's still frame. "The one inside her, anyway..."

Yun nods. Paralysis. Illusory dragons. It's strange, he thinks numbly, how this is his _normal_ now. He looks down at Shin-ah. Wonders if she will be normal when she revives, or if this condition will last. And Yona and Hak...are they alright?

Shin-ah's fingers twitch.

* * *

Though Shin-ah's eyes are closed, she can see the hazy shadows of Ao and Abi cross in front of her.

_ "Focus," _ Abi repeats. "You haven't lost it entirely."

Ao snorts. "You're not helping."

"And you are? You have done nothing but play the annoying chorus. You are so ignorant that you don't even know what the link feels like."

"I know saying the same fucking thing over and over won't help!"

Shin-ah opens her eyes. Ao is inches from Abi. He looms over the shorter ghost. Both of them are scowling. Abi juts his chin out.

"Try..." Abi searches where the horizon should be. "Try talking about them. Your friends."

Shin-ah shifts, frowning. “What...what do I say?”

Ao drops next to her. “Anyone...um. You like any of ‘em? In particular? Anyone cute?”

Making a noise, Abi rolls his eyes.

“Ao is cute,” Shin-ah says. She doesn't see how this is supposed to help.

Ao’s face falls. "I mean  _ good-looking, _ you turtle. Got someone...y’know, special?"

Shin-ah’s frown deepens. She considers this, then comes to a conclusion. “Yona is special.”

“Huh. Didn’t realize you swung that way. ‘S all good! Get you some!”

“Some of what?”

Abi clears his throat. ""Ignore the idiot, Seiryuu Shin-ah, and  _ focus. _ Considering your friends, why is it that you're so fond of them?"

"They're...nice. Kind."

"Go on."

Shin-ah frowns at her hands curled in her lap. It takes several seconds to find the words. "I was...always lonely. In my village, nobody would come near me. After Ao died...there was nobody. People would fall quiet when I came near. Whisper. Point. Sometimes children threw rocks at me. They..."

They screamed and ran and cried, Shin-ah cannot say. She inhales. Plunges in. "It...hurt. It really hurt."

It still hurts, though Shin-ah knows it should not. It’s  _ over; _ she should be fine now. "Yona came to my village. She was looking for me. She wanted me to lend her my power...even though I tried to scare her off, she didn’t run. She  _ wouldn’t. _ She said-" Shin-ah pauses. Swallows. "She said she didn't care if I was a monster."

There's a sound. Shin-ah looks up. Abi's looking away, his face half-buried in his sleeve. His eyes are teary. "Bloody idiotic king," he mumbles. He braces himself with a deep breath. "And the others?"

Shin-ah has to consider it. "Kija said...when we first met, he said to call him  _ big brother. _ At first, I thought Hak was mean. But he wasn't mean to me. Just Kija, and sometimes Yona. Yun is..."

"So...um. What's the point of this?" Ao interrupts.

Abi rolls his eyes, somehow graceful in the action. Then he smiles, baring fangs. "I'm sorry, Seiryuu Ao. I keep forgetting that you're an idiot. What is it that, above all else, maintains this fragile existence of ours?  _ Emotions." _ Abi's tone grows icy. "Rage at the living and regret for chances never taken, certainly- but also desire to see one's loved ones grow. Unwillingness to pass on without them...desperation to hold just one more conversation."

Crossing his arms, Ao turns away.

Abi sweeps toward Shin-ah. "Remember the reasons that you don't want to leave your friends," he commands. "Now focus."

Shin-ah closes her eyes. She thinks of Ao the squirrel nestled at her shoulder. She thinks of Jae-ha laughing as he tries to steal her mask and Kija's outrage on her behalf. She thinks of the ring of steel on steel as she spars with Hak. Zeno's grin as he cheers them both onward. The scents of Yun's cooking, watching as he minces and stirs pungent herbs into something that's somehow amazing. She thinks of Yona's open hand as she asked her once more to come with her.

Warmth blossoms in Shin-ah's chest. All at once she can see them- three faint glimmers of light. She can feel their warmth, like sunlight on her skin. They pull at her, calling without words.

They're so far away.

Shin-ah draws a deep breath. She recalls nights spent standing watch over the camp, as the others lay down to sleep. Kija is always the first asleep. Jae-ha jokes that he needs his beauty sleep. But even as they doze off one by one, Shin-ah is not alone. How many times has Zeno stayed up with her and chattered while he fed Ao acorns? How many times has Shin-ah paced around cooling embers, listening to cicadas' song and the distant  _ twang _ of a bowstring?

The thought strikes a note of shame in Shin-ah, even as the glimmers grow brighter, their pull stronger. Yona fires two hundred arrows each night before she will allow herself to rest. This, on top of learning the sword from Hak. With every fight they find themselves in, she grows stronger. And Shin-ah? While Yona pushes herself to her limits, Shin-ah does nothing. She does not -will not, cannot- use her power...the very power Yona asked to borrow in the first place. This thought only twists the guilt burrowing into Shin-ah. Yona has never asked her to use that terrible power.

Shin-ah's stomach knots itself. She recalls a battlefield far away and not long ago at all. Her skin was flushed pink and she was so  _ cold _ and the world tilted with every step. Only the knowledge that Yona and Hak faced the soldiers alone kept her from falling to that parched ground and letting darkness claim her. She knew, then, how it would end: Kija, Jae-ha and Zeno would die still protecting Yona. Yona would refuse to run and die for it. Hak would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Yun would not escape the slaughter.

In the wake of Zeno's secret, Shin-ah has not thought about her failure to act until now. That day, everything hung in the balance. Yet Shin-ah still did not use her power. If Zeno had not acted...if his power had been anything but immortality...

Even as realization rears its ugly head, something changes.  _ Shifts. _ Shin-ah stands between worlds, balanced on a thin wire. This is the doorway she was looking for.

She's supposed to be happy.

"Abi," Shin-ah says. If she moves, the balance will be broken. She'll find herself home, and that is all she wants- except, she realizes now, it isn't what she  _ needs. _ "I can't protect Yona. Not enough."

Abi watches Shin-ah, waiting, still frigid.

"My power...this power in my eyes..." Shin-ah stutters to a halt. She has used it twice in her life. Once, when she was four and Ao's grave was still fresh. Once when she hadn't meant to at all. The former is a haze but the latter is horribly clear.

The scene plays over and over in her nightmares: she stands above everything. Something more than human, she is a creature of scales and shadow, light as wind. Her fears and worries are vanished in the brilliant colors that have overtaken the world. The bandits -disgusting, thieving bastards- who kicked and stabbed her and stole Ao’s mask back away. She relishes the fear in their eyes. Too long she’s kept quiet, too long defending and protecting

_ Ao said I was meant to guard the village _

and afraid of everything: of her enemies and of herself. No more, she wants to sneer. Before her, at the height of her triumph, Yona stands defiant. Shielding them- people who would have murdered her- as though  _ Shin-ah _ is the one she should fear-

Shin-ah recalls it with nightmare clarity: fury. Blazing, searing rage that numbed the agony in her stomach and blocks out the world. Insult upon insult: Yona fought beside her only minutes ago,  _ trusted _ her- or so she’d been stupid enough to believe.

The thought rises like a venomous serpent:  _ then why not kill her too?  _ It will be easy. So Yona wants to stand between Shin-ah and vengeance? Then she can be the first to fall. Rend the fool’s soft skin, dig the beating heart from her chest, see her blood spill over her claws, let it stain her teeth-

A sliver of Shin-ah remained herself throughout. The wordless horror would not fade for a long time, and would never be erased. It was all she could do to shove Yona out of the way instead, pleading  _ deal with her later _ and praying that she would have the sense to run and not look back-

"...I'm scared of it," Shin-ah admits. It must be the worst understatement in the world. "I can't..." her eyes meet Abi's. He is the first Blue Dragon. If there's a way, he must know what it is. "How do I control it?"

Abi's eyes are downcast. "I recall asking that very question, so long-"

The world itself _shudders,_ sky and ground trembling. Shin-ah is being pulled in a thousand different directions by unseen hands. If she moves, she thinks, she will shatter like glass. The scent of pine forests washes over her, and she wants to cry.

Abi's eyes widen. "You've held the pathway open too long. Go!"

"How?" Shin-ah repeats. She cannot leave without the answer- she has to know. She's tried to work it out, but there must be a piece she is missing-

Or what she wants is an impossibility.

She won't accept that.

_"How?_ " Shin-ah shouts.

"It is a skill! It must be practiced, like any other!" Abi shouts. “But more importantly-”

The space between them ripples. Any second now, something will give. Shin-ah will be flung from this world- shot like an arrow from a bow.

"Listen!" Abi roars. He spits the words out rapidfire. “Our power acts like a drug, creating false confidence and heightening your worst impulses! You must divorce yourself from your emotions in order to use it effectively- and that requires practice! Secondly, while our power influences our emotions, the reverse is also true: it will respond to your emotional state. Fear will cause it to spiral out of all control! Exercise caution, but remember that  _ you must not be afraid!" _

Something  _ splinters. _

Shin-ah's eyes meet Ao's. He nods, once. Speaks- and his voice is lost in the torrent that fills Shin-ah's ears.

Light engulfs the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Shin-ah's eyes open. She blinks, the sunlight dazzling. Deja vu: this too is a new experience. Her eyes have not had to adjust to new conditions before. Her eyes are still weakened, and that means...

Shin-ah lifts her hand to the light. In the harsh glare, it's little more than an outline. She turns. There's her mask, sitting on a tree root. Her wolfskin, fallen near it. Shin-ah drops to the ground when she spots Ao. The little squirrel is flat on her back, fast asleep but alive.

Shin-ah can't help but smile. She straightens. An imprint in the leaves marks where her sword must have lain. Footsteps lead away. There is the dragon statue. It looks like regular stone. Still, she takes care not to touch it as she inspects it. There's nothing out of the ordinary about it, except for what might be a lever inside the neck. The mechanism that closes the mouth, Shin-ah supposes.

Twigs snap behind her. Shin-ah whirls, hand flying upward for her sword by habit.

She stares at the approaching figure.

The clothes are her own- a dark robe, trimmed with fur at the hems. Sleeves bound at her forearms. Necklaces and a sword that once belonged to Ao. Yet the face...

Shin-ah has only a vague concept of what her face looks like, neither owning a mirror nor prone to removing her mask except to sleep. She does not recognize the face before her now: high cheekbones, tilted eyes, a narrow nose. And the expression- the smile of a serpent about to strike. Worst of all, hefted over the thing's shoulder -over  _ Shin-ah's _ shoulder- is Zeno, bound with rope.

The thing -the ghost or spirit- pauses. A cold gaze swoops over Shin-ah. Identical eyes meet.

"You can see me," Shin-ah says. It must be able to hear her, too. What about..."Zeno!" Shin-ah calls.

The spirit laughs without voice, flashing fangs. It strides toward Shin-ah and passes straight through her. There is no wash of cold this time. There's nothing at all. Shin-ah spins toward the spirit. The leaves on the ground don't so much as flutter.

Zeno is conscious...and looks bored. He doesn't react when Shin-ah tries to shake him and her hand passes through his shoulder like air. He doesn't even blink when she bends, their faces inches apart. "Zeno!" Shin-ah cries.

The spirit's shoulders quake. A chuckle escapes its lips. Zeno cranes his neck. He can't do more than look up, straight through Shin-ah. "Oh? Seiryuu thinks something is funny?"

"Shut up." The spirit fiddles with the statue. It grins, and Shin-ah's mouth looks  _ wrong _ stretched like that. "Before you die, I'll show you something cool."

Shin-ah circles around the spirit's side. Its gaze flicks toward her as she approaches. "Don't touch him," Shin-ah growls.

Still smirking -and why not? Whatever threats Shin-ah gives, they are meaningless; she cannot touch the spirit, nor it her- the spirit beckons to the statue. "Wake up," it calls. "Wake, all of you."

A cold gust blows through the trees. Zeno cranes his head upward, eyes widening.

Two things happen at once.

The statue slides backwards with a rumbling and scraping, dragged by some invisible force, revealing a gaping hole. Carved steps descend into pitch-black.

_ Things _ melt from shadows, from the crevices of the statue, from the stairway. Masses of bone and rotting flesh and something inky black like liquid shadows. They creep or drift more than walk, crowding around the spirit, bumping up against each other and Shin-ah. Mouths open, but the wordless moan that follows resonates from everywhere- the earth, the trees, the wind.

The spirit smiles- really smiles this time, its eyes crinkling at the corners.

Zeno lifts his head as much as he can. Shin-ah can't tell if he's looking at the shades clamoring around him or not. "This presence..." he mutters.

The boldest of the warped spirits reaches for Zeno.

Shin-ah lunges forward. She doesn't pass through the spirits like she expects, instead stumbling when her leg hits one, momentum sending her flailing. She lands on another spirit. There is a rattling, tinny scream and it surges upward, its viscous, liquid body swallowing her arm-

Raw emotion pierces Shin-ah, fury  **_Hate them_ ** carving into her soul, a legion of thunderous  **_Kill them_ ** voices roaring for vengeance-

There's a shriek, and it is only when Shin-ah's throat hurts that she realizes it is her own. An aura of bitterness has settled over the spirits, almost tangible, and their voiceless grumbles have taken on a new note.

Shin-ah's body is descending the stairway. Zeno's bright hair slips into shadow.

Shin-ah grits her teeth, and wades through the swarm. Resentment presses against her heels, and each step is like moving through tar.

This...this is what Abi meant, Shin-ah thinks. Without a body to touch the physical world, to tie her to it, she is nothing but memories and emotions and thoughts knotted up together. Her very  _ existence _ is inconstant.

She descends the stairs. The tunnels, when she is finally in them proper, are roughly hewn from the stone. Stalactites and stalagmites line the ceiling and floor. Alcoves where candles must have once sat dot the walls, some still occupied. Shin-ah presses onward, a snail's pace the best she can manage. Resentment, bitterness and a yearning that's all too familiar cling to her like a film as she pushes away spirits. Shin-ah can't stop herself wondering- how much of it is contamination? How much is truly _her,_ that long-ago, grief-ridden hate that scorched until it burnt itself out and left her numb and hollow and empty?

Zeno's golden glow turns sickly yellow. Shin-ah breaks away, pieces of sludge flying. They turn into mist and re-form. Hissing cries ring in Shin-ah's ears.

The tunnel ends at last. It opens into a large room- but Shin-ah doesn't notice the details of it, because there is her stolen body. And there, spirits clinging to him like giant leeches, is Zeno.

* * *

The two presences glow like a beacon, so close and so far.

Kija woke first and shook Jae-ha awake. He was about to wake Yun as well, when Jae-ha stopped him.

Yun would want to search with them. It was too dangerous, Jae-ha had said, and Kija had been forced to agree. He didn't want to fight Shin-ah; they were brother and sister. But the thing possessing her would show no such restraint. So he and Jae-ha had followed Shin-ah's presence, into the forest until they came here.

The trees are sparser here. The ground rises and dips, and Kija thinks there might have been a riverbed once. Yun would know for certain, could probably tell you which way it had flowed. Jagged rock formations protrude from the earth, covered in moss and vines. There is nothing else.

Shin-ah's and Zeno's presences shine beneath their feet.

"They must be underground," Jae-ha says, voicing Kija's own thoughts.

Concentrating, Kija raises his right hand. It swells to double its normal size. "I'll start digging!" He swings his hand downward. Ivory claws rip through stony dirt, leaving tracks. He lifts it again-

"Wait," Jae-ha says. "There must be a cave system underground. Let's look for the entrance."

Nodding, Kija lets his hand shrink. It's sensible. Marching toward the nearest boulders, he starts examining their faces, pushing aside vines that might conceal a gap. Most of them are far too small, but this one rises to chin level.

It's shaped strangely, Kija thinks. Almost like...

He slashes through ivy. Stares, stomach sinking. This isn't a single stone. These are stones stacked one on the other, held by mortar. This is no piece of the earth; this is what remains of a wall. "Jae-ha," Kija says.

"Hm?"

Kija turns. This was a corner; that could have been another. "I think this used to be a village."

Jae-ha looks up. Around. He taps his foot against the ground. The sound is of a boot on stone. "I think you're right."

Kija crosses to where  _ outside _ must have been. The surroundings look the same, yet Kija can't help but imagine how it must have been. Trees cleared away, river flowing. That stone looks like another collapsed wall. This one was part of a bridge. "Shin-ah could be in a cellar."

"Or a dungeon," Jae-ha mutters.

* * *

"It's gotten late," Yona muses. "I wonder if Yun will be mad."

Hak gives a one-shouldered shrug. "We should be fine. We have this many souvenirs," he says, nodding to the apples in Yona's arms and the bear he's carrying. He's just lucky, he supposes, that it was a young bear they encountered -luckier still that it wasn't a cub- and not a full-grown one. He dreads the thought of lugging one of them back to camp.

"I hope Yun will be pleased with them!" Yona chirps.

Of course he will be, once he gets over his shock. The apples are ripe and probably not wormy, and meat is meat. Besides, bearskins are excellent for trading.

"Everyone! We're-"

Hak stops when Yona does. The bear carcass hits the ground. Hak stares at the campsite. The tent is ruined, poles broken and canvas slashed apart. Yun is huddled by a small firepit. He lifts his head at their approach. His eyes are puffy.

"Yoon! What happened?" Yona asks.

Yun sniffles. "Yona! Thunder Beast!

"What is it?!" Hak demands. His knuckles are white where he grips his glaive like a lifeline.

"What should I do? They all...they all-" Yun breaks off. "They all went missing!"

Hak has to remind himself to breathe as Yun's words sink in. He thanks the gods Yona was with him. She's safe.

That used to be everything to him. When has it become such a small consolation?

Yona sucks in air through her teeth. When she speaks, her voice holds the smallest quiver. "What do you mean,  _ everyone went missing?" _

Yun shakes his head. "I don't know! Shin-ah became a rebel and- she went on a rampage, chopping down the tent, laughing loudly and Kija held an emergency council and then Zeno fell and I just- I just-!"

Hak forces himself to speak levelly. "Calm down. You're only telling me strange things."

Yun nods shakily. He inhales and exhales, his breath evening out.

"Yun, go step-by-step," Yona says.

"Yeah. Shin-ah started behaving strangely..."

And so Yun tells Hak and Yona what happened, from the moment Shin-ah returned with neither Ao nor her mask. How, when she had insulted Kija, Yun had only assumed that she was angry with him for some reason. How, without provocation, she destroyed the tent. Kija's realization afterward, the fight between Shin-ah and Zeno, and how Shin-ah had collapsed, only to rise moments later.

"Then there was this...this sort of  _ pressure," _ Yun says. "My head hurt and I could barely stay conscious. I saw...I saw Shin-ah tie up Zeno and then I..." he swipes at a tear. "I lost consciousness after that. When I came to, Kija and Jae-ha were both gone. I didn't know what to do- I wanted to look for them, but I was afraid you guys would come back."

Yun's cheeks pinken. He picks up a steaming pot from the remains of the fire beside him. "For the time being, I made lunch while I was waiting!"

Yona cracks a smile. "As expected of Yun."

"The perfect image of a mother," Hak adds.

His goad works. Yun flushes, scowling. "I'm not a mother!"

Hak snorts. Yona hefts the bear Hak dropped and holds it toward Yun. "Yun, cheer up. A souvenir. It's a bear."

_ "You actually caught a bear-" _

"Anyway," Hak interrupts. "We now know that this is serious."

That was obvious from the start, but if Hak is honest...he doesn't know what to do. Bandits, corrupt officers, enemy soldiers- those are simple things to fight. This? What he can only guess is possession by some spirit or demon?

Sobering, Yona nods. Hak can see the thoughts turning in her head. "It's not a simple matter if Shin-ah used her ability."

Yun frowns at her. "It doesn't seem like it's actually Shin-ah. She lifted Zeno and carried him away." He looks at the trees around them. "I wonder where they went..."

He doesn't need to say the rest. This far from the road, there are no real pathways, yet the undergrowth isn't thick enough to show every footstep taken. In other words, without the other Dragons to track her, it will be a hell of a time finding Shin-ah.

"I don't know since...I lost consciousness..." Yun mumbles.

Hak peers at him. Before he can say anything, Yona pipes up. "Kija and Jae-ha might have chased after her and left. Let's hurry up and search for them."

Optimistic, but Hak won't say he doesn't hope the same.

"Wait a second! Let me roll up the rice into onigiri first!"

Hak rolls his eyes. "Yun, give it up. You already have the image of a mother."

Yun shoots him a glare. While he packs rice into triangles, Hak rolls his weight back and forth, glaive balanced across his shoulders. Yona puts away her bow with her things. She goes still. Hak glances over, and sees why- there's her sword. She sets it back down and wanders over to Yun, who's rolling rice like a maniac. "Are you ready to go yet?"

"I'm almost finished!"

Hak sighs. There's a part of him that's torn. He can go now, while Yona and Yun stay here.  _ Safe. _ Besides, leaving their weapons, supplies and food unattended is begging for disaster.

It's a frail rationale. If whatever has taken over Shin-ah has done the same to the others...

Well, then the sensible thing is to run. Hak can't take all four Dragons at once. But Yona will never agree to that, nor will she stay here while Hak investigates. So Hak is left with the lesser of the two evils, and that is sticking close to the Princess where he can protect her to some degree.

"Alright," Yun says.

Yona marches toward the trees. "Let's go."

* * *

The spirit possessing Shin-ah's body drops Zeno. He hits the floor with a crack that makes Shin-ah flinch. Shades flock to him, vultures over a carcass. His face is chalky. If it weren't for a sliver of white visible beneath pale lashes, Shin-ah would have thought he was asleep. Rushing over, she drops to her knees and drags a ghost away, heedless of the cold burning her palms. Even as she shoves it away, two more rush in.

"Stop it!" Shin-ah says. She elbows an empty pit where an eye should be-

Something bores through her. The world blinks out and back in. Somehow without a body, Shin-ah tastes bile.

“It’s funny,” the spirit says.

Shin-ah grits her teeth and does not look its way.

“Our power could barely touch him...but it doesn’t look like he’s immune to  _ them.” _

Shin-ah tenses. She does not turn. She won’t give  _ it _ that satisfaction, she tells herself. A moment too late, the words snag her attention.  _ Our. _

_ Our,  _ because...it was the worst kind of - _ unintentional, she never wanted to-  _ joint venture: her power and  _ it’s  _ effort and aim…

And it had made a mistake. It had aimed for the one wrong person, the only person in the world who was immune. Shin-ah tried not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t even  _ known _ Zeno could shrug off Blue Dragon-inflicted paralysis. If it had turned out to be Zeno’s one weakness...

"Why do you bother?"

Shin-ah's head snaps up. She glares. "He's my friend."

_ "Friend," _ the spirit sneers. It traipses around the room, footsteps echoing against stone. "What would  _ you _ know about that word?"

Shin-ah says nothing. She knows so little, and she is all too aware of it. How does  _ it  _ know?

Zeno twitches. His eyelids flutter and do not open. Shin-ah turns back to him. "Zeno?"

"Oh, give it up. He can't hear you."

Shin-ah's hands fall. Even if he were conscious, Zeno wouldn't be able to hear her. She wants to scream. There's nothing she can do but watch, as...

She leaps to her feet, strides to the spirit. Her boots make no sound on the stone. "Give me my body back," Shin-ah snarls.

The spirit doesn't sneer now. Doesn't glare or laugh or scowl or smirk. "Why...do you care?" it asks again, words careful as though it's speaking to a young child. "They wouldn't care about you if your positions were reversed."

Shin-ah's jaw slackens. She opens her mouth to retort, but no words come to her lips. She shakes her head. It doesn't know what it's talking about, she tells herself. It  _ can't. _ "There-"

"I am not your enemy, Seiryuu!"

The word is a slap across the face. Shin-ah flinches, her eyes saucers and breath catching. She gulps, and when she is able to speak, her voice is crushed flat. "You know."

"I am also Seiryuu."

There is...not a silence -the ghosts haven't shut up- but a pause, the space of several breaths. Under better circumstances, Shin-ah would be glad at this revelation...but one of her kindred or not, this spirit is the one who hurt Zeno. Who might have hurt the others. The betrayal stings...and that's stupid; Shin-ah is owed nothing. Before she can work out what to say, the spirit tilts its head. It steps toward Shin-ah. "You were left alone, weren't you?"

Shin-ah stiffens. Her eyes fall to the ground. She was, she cannot say. It hurt. It still hurts, and it shouldn't because it's been years and things are better now besides-

"You watched as the other children talked and talked while they worked with their parents and their families and then went to play. You weren't ever allowed to join, were you? You were meant to stay put where you belonged, for everyone's safety."

The spirit's voice fades in and out as memories rip through Shin-ah. The end of a tunnel where someone decided to just stop digging, deep in the heart of the mountain. Spine curled, cheek laying on her arms, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. A bruise forming between her shoulder blades. A river stone, thrown for her crime of saying  _ hello _ when she'd gone to hunt fish for her dinner. What business do monsters have greeting people, except to lure them in?

_ For everyone's safety. _ The words fit like a glove, though Shin-ah has never put them in the context of her childhood until now.

"You were different from them, and that was reason enough to fear you," the spirit spits. "This is how it has always been for the Seiryuu."

The shades in the room shift. Their grumbling and groaning rises in pitch, as though the spirit's words cut them too. The largest of the ones latched onto Zeno slides off like something oily. Shin-ah searches what was once a face, and recoils. "You were a Blue Dragon too." She whirls toward another. Golden eyes flash between flickering, human-like shapes. "And you," Shin-ah whispers. Ghosts creep towards her, shambling and dragging themselves along. Blackened, decayed fingers stretch toward her  _ Lanternlight shining on these very walls, tall tall adults looming over them, splinters from their mask poking thin cheeks _

"You're no different than us," the spirit says. It spreads its arms. "You talk about friends, you're convinced they care about you- believe me, they are using you!"

Shin-ah shakes her head. "No. They're-"

"They only want your power."

"They don't care about it, Yona said-"

The spirit screams with laughter. "Oh, does she encourage you? Isn't she so  _ patient _ with you figuring it out? And when - _ if _ \- you work out the trick to it, who is it that you'll turn those eyes on?"

"I-" Shin-ah stammers. She doesn't understand. She doesn’t  _ want _ to understand.

The spirit flashes fangs. "You know exactly who. You'll fight her enemies for her, whoever they are. As many as it takes, because she's the one who lifted you out of that loneliness, and you're so very  _ grateful. _ You'll bleed out still singing her praises."

Shin-ah stiffens. Her hands curl into fists. It's right. The spirit is absolutely right- so why is it so angry about it? Why is she angry? Yes, she would die for Yona-  _ what's wrong with that? _

"But you're nothing to her in the end."

Shin-ah's stomach twists; her blood runs cold. "You're wrong," she says, but her voice is crumpled. Old fears stir, freezing her from the inside out. Icicles reach from her bones to her skin.

"One day the cost is going to grow too high, and that's when they'll leave you lying there, given up for dead." It gestures with open palms to the ghosts eddying around them. "We have seen this over and over again! We have lived through this countless times!"

Shin-ah's shoulders curl inward. She hugs herself. "They won't," she mumbles. There's no conviction, because  _ it’s right: _ she knows nothing about things like  _ friends- _

"They don't care," the spirit hisses again. It flings an arm toward Zeno. "This one doesn't even call you by your name!"

The air stands still.

The worst part of it? Shin-ah cannot say the spirit is wrong. She can't say anything at all as she shrinks into herself.  _ Seiryuu. _ The word slices deeply enough to draw blood, no matter how much Shin-ah wishes it didn't. She wants to say that it's fine. Somehow, she thinks, the spirit will know it's a lie. It  _ should _ be fine. Zeno isn't wrong. He doesn't mean it as an insult...and if he does, it's still okay. She can take it.

Just as long as...as long as she isn't left alone again.

The ghosts murmur at her elbows  _ Dangerous Always feared by everyone- _

The spirit possessing Shin-ah's body crouches. They sit at eye level. It brushes a hand over a distorted shade. When it speaks, its voice is gentle. "You realize the memory transfer works both ways? I saw what happened when you met that red-haired girl you're so fond of. Do you remember what she said when you met? She wanted to borrow your power so that she could survive."

It's fine, Shin-ah tells herself again. She  _ wants _ to protect Yona, keep her safe...fight for her.

"What happens when whatever fight she's walking into is over, and she emerges victorious?"

Shin-ah doesn't know  _ Pain explodes in their head and their back as they tumble down narrow steps _ A whimper breaks through Shin-ah's lips.

"Can you say with absolute certainty that she won't push you away and ignore you? After all...you've already attacked her once."

...it had seen  _ that day. _

_ Gods, _ is all Shin-ah can think. Her stomach writhes with living vipers and if she opens her mouth to speak she will retch  _ Feared by everyone _ -no, Shin-ah rebutts. Yona isn't afraid of her...but she ought to be. If she had any sense...if she just knew how close Shin-ah had come to...

"And now you've unsealed us. You gave me your body. Your power."

Shin-ah wants to shake her head. She wants to scream and block out the spirit's awful,  _ truthful _ words. She wants to get up and run from this wretched place. Her knees are glued to the ground; her limbs remain still as though she'd been struck by the backlash paralysis. Her voice is gone.

_ Dangerous. _

As if dragged by a thread, her eyes move to Zeno. His face is still ashen, sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes remain shut.

It was her arms that tied the rope around those skinny limbs, her that hefted him and brought him to this mass grave. Her eyes, her power.

_ Dangerous. _ Shin-ah can't meet that golden gaze. It's right, she thinks, numbly. Named or not, she can't escape what she is.

The vipers in her stomach have turned to a storm. Shin-ah is dizzy with horror. The spirit's words wash over her and don't make sense. "You are the Seiryuu. Loneliness was always our fate."

Shin-ah's chin dips. She can't hold back her tears any longer. Her frame quakes with sobs. Bony, half-melted arms embrace her as she sinks lower. Whispery, wordless murmuring like hissing fires fills her ears. She doesn't feel shadows bore into her skin. She wants to forget. She wants to forget these realizations...this conversation, this whole day  **_Everything-_ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the mindfucks begin. I played with the formatting...well, you'll see. If it's difficult to read, I'm not sorry.

The young Seiryuu folds into herself, a ragged keen tearing from her throat as harsh reality breaks over her. Seiryuu turns away. It’s better that she understands now, than…

...than to learn the hard way.

Seiryuu stalks toward Ouryuu. The feeling of solid ground is still  _ weird; _ he can’t get over it now that other things aren’t distracting him. He looms above the Ouryuu. The moron’s eyelids are fluttering. The other ghosts no longer attempting to claim his skin as their own, some color has returned to his cheeks.

How disgusting.

Seiryuu turns his scowl on the stone cavern around him. More souls trapped are beginning to wake, dragging themselves from the places their bones lie. Not only Blue Dragons, but more than a few of their jailers. Seiryuu's eyes widen as he recognizes one of  _ them. _

"Why are  _ you _ here?" Seiryuu snarls, lunging to throttle the ghost-

-he stumbles back, rubbing feeling back into numb fingers. Properly -mostly- alive now, he can't interact with the others nearly as much. He turns away from the bandit’s ghost. It’s not the one who killed him, anyway. He shuffles to the end of the room opposite Ouryuu, sits down, and tries not to think about the place he’s in. About the time before his death, or the times after, or-

He  _ will _ get back out again. He refuses to die here twice _.  _ And he had to come down here, at any rate, he justifies to himself. It’s where the other Blue Dragons are -he almost says  _ where they live _ in his internal rambling- and they really do need someone to guide them. That part isn’t their fault, it’s because they’ve been dead for  _ so long _ and their lives were so…

He doesn’t need to say it.

Seiryuu sighs. Half-draws the sword, drops it back down. He...wasn’t thinking. He stumbled on what first registered as  _ living people  _ and didn’t realize they were  _ the other Dragons  _ until after he had punched that loud one. He just wanted to cause trouble for them, it wasn’t like he  _ planned _ to attack them…

The problem of  _ backlash:  _ there’s no going back once you use that power.

Another Seiryuu grumbles something.

“So what? Like you wouldn’t be petty too,” Seiryuu mutters. Now the other Dragons are on their way; he can feel them getting closer. “I could have run,” he tells the ghost. If they agree with him, he can’t tell. He could have...and then the other ghosts wouldn’t get their second chances, when they deserve it just as much as him. “But I would feel guilty about leaving you here,” he tells his elder kin. And it’s not entirely a lie. He  _ would _ feel guilty...and then he would have gotten over it.

Maybe the truth is that he panicked and reverted to lessons learned in childhood: you keep dangerous things - _ locked away for everyone’s safety- _ where you can see them if you can’t kill them. And Ouryuu certainly falls there.

Maybe he got scared and ran home. How...how stupid is that?

“I should have run. It’s not like they would have followed.”

But now they are. Chasing him here’s no use; the others will wear Ouryuu down pretty soon and then some lucky ghost will get to possess him. Seiryuu just hopes they’re coherent enough for speech, whoever it is. He’s really holding out for  _ able to fight,  _ but his luck has never been that good.

He should have run. Instead, he came...here.

Now he must fight for his life in this damned tomb for the second time.

* * *

She walks softly, hands tucked under elbows. She is always so cold  _ Teeth chattering Huddled in the corner but there is only cold stone Fingers are stiff _ Even though she's quiet, their eyes still follow her. She doesn't look at them. She isn't allowed; her power  _ Wear a mask but it doesn't help Nothing but a  _ **_monster_ ** She watches for blades hidden in sleeves and in baskets. For stones clenched in fists. She doesn't leave Ao's sword behind anymore. The walk down the tunnel takes years  _ Walk down to one end and turn around The door is bolted and blocked up Pound and scratch at it but nobody answers nobody will ever answer Blood under our fingernails  _ **_Hurts_ **

Alone in the cave she was grudgingly allowed, she does not take off her mask  _ Never never  _ **_Never_ ** She isn't allowed, even though there isn't anyone around-

**_Nobody_ ** _ Forever we are alone forever locked here  _ **_Forever hidden_ **

...it's all wrong. This is a memory, isn't it...?

She...she left that place months ago…

Stone. Stalactites like teeth on curved ceilings. She walks softly, says  _ nothing always be silent be still _ hands tucked under her elbows  _ cold so  _ **_Cold_ ** _ Winter air reaches even here _ because it's  _ Fingers turn black Can't feel them fall off  _ **_So tired_ **

...Frostbite. That's its name, right? She's seen it but she hasn't experienced it...has she...?

Even though she's quiet, their eyes still  _ nobody there Alone forever and ever  _ **_Only corpses_ ** _ it used to be a mausoleum _ alone in the cave she was grudgingly  _ our prison  _ **_Our grave_ **

...she left. She... _ someone _ asked her to leave and smiled at her and gave her a name-

_ Seiryuu All of us Seiryuu  _ **_We do not deserve names_ **

-Shin-ah; it means  _ Stalactites like teeth on curved ceilings _ person of the moonlight  _ Cannot see the stars Cannot see the moon _ It means  _ howling dogs all of us Blood sinks into the earth and voices still echo  _ **_Nobody hears_ ** Moonlight...

Her name is  _ Unmarked graves and endless darkness This is our fate This is the fate of _ She cannot remember it  _ forgotten  _ **_alone_ ** of the moonlight  **_Cannot remember_ ** her name is  _ have forgotten it Forgotten everything _

**Seiryuu.**

* * *

Jae-ha wipes sweat from his forehead. The rockslide cleared away at last, the entrance is large enough for two or three to walk abreast. Jae-ha eyes the stairs leading down into the tunnel. It could mean nothing. It could be an old mining town, this another quarry. Just because it's underground  _ doesn't _ mean it's a dungeon.

And just because he can't leap away into the sky doesn't mean he won't go down there.

Shin-ah and Zeno are somewhere in there.  _ He hopes. _

Jae-ha catches Kija's arm as the younger Dragon is about to descend the steps. "Wait. We'll need a torch."

Kija flushes. "I knew that!"

If he weren't so exhausted, Jae-ha would make fun of him. He all but collapses on a mossy rock to rest his legs and starts rifling through his pockets for a piece of flint. The lowest branches of the nearest tree are well above his head; it proves to be no issue. A suitable branch in hand, it takes a few times of striking knife against flint before the branch catches. "Ready," Jae-ha says.

They descend the steps, and everything  _ shifts. _

The flame sputters. The world tilts. Jae-ha flails and grabs hold of Kija for support, black spots winking in his vision.

"Jae-ha?!"

Jae-ha straightens, cursing. "I'm fine. Just...lightheaded."

Kija nods, hair gleaming in the firelight. He turns away, onward in the tunnel, and doesn't see Jae-ha's grimace. This atmosphere...

Jae-ha breathes shallowly. The air here is stagnant. There's a rancid current to it, as though something has died. It's not just the smell. There's some  _ feel _ to this place that sets all of Jae-ha's nerves on edge.

"Shin-ah! Zeno!" Kija shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. No response sounds.

Jae-ha's mouth twitches.  _ Quiet, _ is what he wants to say. It's what he doesn't say, because then he would have to explain this...this air that he feels, tell Kija about his crappy pseudo-sixth sense. It has nothing to do with the Dragon's blood; it's entirely Jae-ha. A result of childhood trauma, if he had to guess. It’s not even there all the time. It comes and goes with no discernable pattern. The effect…

...he can see ghosts. Well, to an  _ extent, _ which is almost worse. All that about liking to see the wasp in a room. They flicker in and out of existence, indistinct smears like shadows cast from nothing. Just as bad is the aura they give off. These tunnels are soaked in it.

It reminds Jae-ha far too much of his childhood.

They come to a fork. Kija doesn't even hesitate and he marches down the left path. "Shin-ah! ZENO!"

Jae-ha follows. He feels like he's wading through water, though the tunnels here are dry as bones. Shin-ah and Zeno's presences burn somewhere ahead of them. Jae-ha concentrates. To his right, and tauntingly close. They must be around the next bend.

Jae-ha slows, frowning. When they meet...then what? That...person -it  _ isn't _ Shin-ah, Jae-ha reminds himself- has already won against them once. Jae-ha's leg and Kija's hand are great for fighting, but they won't save them from Shin-ah's eyes.

Jae-ha just manages to stifle a snort as a thought occurs. Shin-ah's eyes. She's got a literal death glare. He sobers; Kija has paused. He looks back at Jae-ha, head cocked. "Is there a problem?"

Jae-ha keeps his voice low. "How do we fight that thing?"

Kija's brows furrow. He chews on his lip. "We must be swift, and careful. If we look into her eyes-"

Jae-ha sighs. "I know." Zeno won't be able to save them this time. He eyes the torch. Do the Blue Dragon's powers work in the dark? It makes sense that they wouldn't, if eye contact is needed. That still leaves the problem of that  _ pressure. _ "We have to knock her unconscious," Jae-ha says. He can't see any other way. He’s knocked someone out on purpose all of once, and that time was with a rag soaked in some concoction Captain Gi-gan wouldn't tell him anything about. He's aware that a hard enough strike to the head can knock someone out...and just as easily kill. And that's the kicker, isn't it?

"Unconscious?" Kija repeats. Cogs turn in his head. "...oh. Yes. Erm...how do-"

"I'll handle it."

Neither of them say anything else as they approach the end of the tunnel. Kija flexes his fingers, lifting his hand to strike or shield. Jae-ha draws a trio of knives from a pocket. Pinches them between his knuckles.

They round the corner-

No one is there.

Nothing before them but another tunnel, this one sloping gently downwards. More stalactites low enough to hit your head on, more walls steeped in shadow. The torch's flame wavers. Those two glows remain so nearby and so frighteningly still.

* * *

Ouryuu shifts again. A groan makes its way up his throat. His eyes fly open and he yelps, jerking away from the spirit making a valiant attempt to gouge his eyes out. "That scared me!"

Seiryuu stares down at him, brows climbing higher. The useless brat should have been drowning in memories and nightmares,  _ at the least. _ His soul should have been severed from his body, flung from this world and his body left a shell for the taking!

So he’s tougher than he looks. A lot tougher. Perhaps too late, Seiryuu thinks back to their fight. Seiryuu had won, so he’d thought it didn’t matter what Ouryuu could or couldn’t do. They could fight, and he would win again. Now...now he wonders. Ouryuu -Zeno, he thinks the youngest Blue Dragon called him?- shouldn’t have remained conscious. He definitely shouldn’t have survived  _ his heart being torn out. _

But ghosts are different than living people, and ghostly abilities -whatever technique he managed before- are different than his power. Zeno can’t possibly be untouchable by  _ everything. _ They’ll wear him down eventually.

Zeno peers around at the ghosts shambling around him. "There are a lot of them here," he comments.

Seiryuu frowns, but doesn’t voice his question. He can see them now? That means something’s changed.  _ Progress. _

Zeno looks up at Seiryuu, frowning. "Huh? Seiryuu...?" Blue eyes sharpen. "I'm wrong. You're similar to Seiryuu."

"No. I am Seiryuu." Seiryuu tilts his head, a smirk growing despite himself. "You're Ouryuu, right? I can tell, since we're both Dragons."

Zeno doesn't blink. Doesn't avert that hawk's stare. "I see. The one possessing Seiryuu is the soul of a Seiryuu from an older generation."

He's got it in one. How clever. Seiryuu crosses his arms.

"I had that feeling, since you knew how to use the Seiryuu's power." Zeno -disgusting that he gets a  _ name _ \- looks around the cavern. The tombs and the bones and the writhing spirits pouring through the walls. "Then...this place is where the Seiryuu's village used to be?"

"Correct," Seiryuu snips. "And also..." he continues, as he strokes a particularly deformed shade, the only comfort he can offer. It cannot remember being human, and so has lost all semblance of it. It remembers only one thing. One word, bound to so much hatred. "...the sleeping place of Seiryuu's souls of ancient times," Seiryuu finishes. He doesn't have energy for venom for that particular point now.

There's something in Ouryuu's eyes as he watches the ancient spirit. How much does he know about the nature of ghosts?

"Although it was an accident, it was still caused by the current Seiryuu, right? Sorry," Zeno says. "I apologize to all of you on Seiryuu's behalf."

He...doesn’t sound sarcastic. Still, the minority who understands him don’t believe him: there's an undercurrent of a snarl in the rumbling voices. He must be an idiot, Seiryuu decides, his mouth curling. Breaking the seal is  _ nothing _ to apologize for.

The warmth leaches from Zeno's voice. "Isn't it about time you all returned my child back home?"

Seiryuu's eyes narrow to slits. An apology- on top of that, having the nerve to call her  _ his child- _ and then, even worse- "How was it an  _ accident?"  _ Seiryuu demands. Only the Blue Dragons will look after their own; this is how it has been for over a thousand years. It's fitting that the one who set them all free was also Seiryuu. Seiryuu sweeps his arms out before Zeno can open his mouth and say something else stupid. "The Dragons that were slumbering here were always forced into submission and looked down upon-!"

The air shudders, and Seiryuu cuts himself short. Just as it is now. Just as it will always be, he wanted to say. Indistinct voices rise as his words dredge up old memories and old hurts. Spirits thrash and cry out. Frost slithers over stalagmites.

Seiryuu will apologize to them later. He steps toward Zeno. "We always wanted to go to the surface and throw away our masks," he hisses. Borrowed fingernails carve into the soft flesh beneath his eyes. "Freely...freely controlling this power." It was  _ theirs. _ The villagers had no right to try to contain it; only  _ they _ should have. Seiryuu’s voice breaks with his next words as the heat vanishes from them. "And...the best vessel finally appeared. This is destiny!"

Zeno's eyes darken. The last vestige of a smile slips away. Perhaps now he understands. Seiryuu steps back. The ghosts are beginning to calm again. A few are managing coherent speech.

Seiryuu glances down at Zeno again. "Your body seems to be pretty special. Why don't you become a vessel for my comrades?"

Ropes shift as Zeno shrugs. "Sure."

Seiryuu pushes a ghost toward Zeno. That's all the permission it needs. Zeno sways a little as hands rip into his flesh. His eyes clench shut. His face contorts as a third goes for his throat. "But...it would be better..." His eyes snap open, suddenly focused. "...if you didn't."

Seiryuu steps back. He shouldn't be able to stay awake. He shouldn’t be able to  _ remain. _ "What-"

Zeno's voice rings clear. "Tens, hundreds of times my heart has been pierced and my body has been torn apart. For hundreds, thousands of years I thought of erasing myself. I don't quite remember, but...I also tore myself apart."

Gaze softening, he smiles. As though he were a parent and them, wayward children. Seiryuu stiffens, fingers twitching.

Zeno dips his chin to his heart. "If it were something I could open, I would do it for you. But..." his voice trembles and then strengthens. "I am a living monster. Even if the world were to disappear, I probably wouldn't disappear."

...he’s lying. He’s exaggerating. Anything to save his own skin. "Are you saying that we cannot carry the burden of the Ouryuu vessel?" Seiryuu scoffs.

Zeno keeps smiling.

Even if possessing him doesn’t work, Seiryuu won’t fall for his tricks. As long as he’s tied up, he’s no threat. Seiryuu crosses the room. Speaks loud enough that Zeno can’t miss a word. "Earlier, there were...four people who entered."

So the ghosts are whispering. There seems to be a bit of confusion as to the exact number, but this is certain: more ghosts follow them, ones no one recognizes. Concentrating, Seiryuu closes his eyes. "Hakuryuu and Ryokuryuu...the other two are humans. They are coming here."

He makes his voice sound confident. Keeps his back turned so the blond imp can’t see the fear in his eyes.  _ I’ll play this game as well as you.  _ He swallows. "If that's the case, it'll be easy to take them."

* * *

The path seems to have no end- or perhaps it doubles back on itself. They can't know. Jae-ha's stopped talking, and there's a strain to his voice when he does. Just tired, he'd said. How long were they kicking and throwing rocks from that entrance?

Still...there's more to it, Kija thinks. Of that, he is confident. Is it tied to these tunnels? Certainly, he's heard stories about cursed places...lost in thought, he doesn't notice that Jae-ha's stopped. He bumps into the older Dragon Warrior with an undignified noise.

"We're going nowhere," Jae-ha says. "We have to be missing something...maybe another entrance collapsed."

"And- they're trapped?" Kija's voice is high. He spins toward those golden and blue glows and sees only chiseled stone.  _ Trapped. _ A buzz drowns out thought; it's Shin-ah's village all over again- they'll run out of air or starve-

Heat floods his right hand as the scales swell. He slams his fist into the wall with a sound like a thunderclap. Dust rains from the ceiling. Kija raises his fist again-

Jae-ha's heel cracks against the wall. No avail.

Kija wipes sweat from his forehead. Steps back. He searches the stone for...anything, really. A crack. A spot where this maze's architects cut further into the stone. There's nothing; it's a gritty-surfaced plane. "Right there," Kija says, pointing to the center. "We'll hit it at the same time. On three."

Jae-ha nods. Flicks hair out of his face. He leans the torch against a broken-tipped stalagmite and turns, tensing. "One."

Zeno's presence has returned to its normal glow and not the sickly yellow it was before, but Kija can't stop worrying until he sees his brother and sister.

"Two."

Shin-ah's presence moves. Not much. The thing controlling her can as good as see them- it might be able to really see them, with Shin-ah's eyes. Something vicious in Kija rears its head, and a thought rises unbidden.  _ Good. _ Let it see them.  _ Let it be afraid. _

"Three!"

* * *

Imagine a haze. A roiling, churning thing that's burned,  _ branded _ into the air. Screams. Every timbre. Wailing, hoarse, wordless. They rip you apart, flay your skin from your bones until there's nothing left of you, no delineation between  _ self _ and  _ everything, _ these red-black depths of what must be a literal ocean of blood because nothing else goes on forever like this-

...blood. You know blood but you do not know  _ ocean, _ the word evokes nothing-

The haze is superimposed over  _ A memory _ a place  _ Home _ with stone walls and you know so very well the feel of rough stone on bare feet  _ Never, never home  _ **_Prison_ ** _ We hate it  _ **_We hate it_ ** as you walked softly, making no noise because-

Fear coils at your feet and morphs as quickly to hatred and maybe the world glows brighter. Hatred is the heartbeat coursing through everything, coursing through you through  **Seiryuu-**

A voice. A voice that is not yours  _ A word _ alien and not  _ A  _ **_name_ **

...why is it that you care?

The cry rings out again.

...why is it that you cannot kill the thing inside you that would reach out and snatch that word from the air?

Again, the words pierce you, two voices now, and that thing swells and

_ A canvas of stars spread out above them, air clear and not a cloud to cover this sea of diamonds and the opal moon nestled there _

Blazing hatred chokes the air. Stone. Why can you see only  _ Forced underground, throat screamed raw as stale air settled around you _ You remember this; you've held onto it for countless centuries and you will never forgive it except that's impossible because people don't live for centuries so

_ "Shin-ah!" _

Person of the moonlight. A crisp breeze lifting the edges of a wolfskin, while silver light poured over the still world. Hands outstretched as if to catch that light.

_ "SHIN-AH!" _

That word breaks the dam, and then the floodwater is crashing, memories battering at her mind, too many to process-

Twilight skies, her chubby hand in one so much larger  _ she knew his name- _

Another lonely evening, spent in silence because she had no one to talk to but air; venom on her tongue but no words as she cast her eyes through stone and darkness toward teenagers trudging up twilit mountain paths and it would be a long time before she learned the word  _ jealousy- _

Back to the wall, sword in front of her, wolfskin draped over her head and shoulders and Yona standing stalwart as Yun hung back, unable to approach and unwilling to run-

Sunlit days; campfires and salty breezes and sore feet, mountain roads and forest paths and busy marketplaces and so many people who are not afraid-

This is her- and this thought alone is a lifeline. Her vision is swimming, memories and reality and dreams shredded to confetti and tossed together. A legion of voices clamor and every one of them sounds like her own but  _ they're not _ and she holds onto that one thought with both hands and cannot let it go-

She closes her eyes, inhales. Speaks.

_ "I am not you." _

The words are lost in the howl and the haze. It's like swimming through tar, but Shin-ah peels herself away, and then she's standing in those tunnels again. Her knees give way; her palms strike dusty earth.

**_Seiryuu,_ ** the storm cries.

Shin-ah shivers and flinches. Her eyes remain dry as her mouth. Somehow, she understands now.  _ Seiryuu _ was the only name given to these souls -these  _ people- _ in life or death. Nobody has bothered to distinguish between one and the next, and so neither do they. An unending stream of tortured agony, of boiling resentment and anger turned inward and out and ceaseless yearning for freedom and for companionship- this is what they have become.

Shin-ah shudders.

For a while -maybe a moment, maybe a lifetime- she'd forgotten too and had melded with this...she knows no word for it.  _ Hive _ would suggest organization. A nightmare legion, she thinks through the cobwebs in her head. Gods, she is tired. Her eyelids feel heavy, her limbs heavier.

Voices ring, echoing against stone- voices Shin-ah knows as well as her own. Kija. Jae-ha.

They're here.

Tears well in Shin-ah's eyes. Her shoulders slump and she almost collapses. They came for her; they do care after all. For all her insistence that she's more than an inconvenience to them, the confirmation fills her with relief until she's practically floating. He was wrong. The ghost that has her body was  _ wrong. _

...no. Not entirely, not about one thing...

Shin-ah's elation drains, leaving her a hollow shell. She's the fool who broke the seal and woke everyone here. If nothing else, that spirit was right about one thing.

For generations, Seiryuu have been locked away for everyone's safety. They are dangerous... _ she _ is dangerous.

Shin-ah forces her eyes to remain open. No rest for the weary, she thinks. It's not a phrase she's ever heard...and that means its familiarity belongs to the ghosts swarming, nipping at her sides. She wades down the tunnel. She'd been in a sort of room with Zeno and the other one before- she must have moved during that...trance, Shin-ah supposes. The word doesn't quite fit.

She shivers; her fingers are icy. She'd been  _ changed. _ She's no more substance than the ghosts around her. Memories and feelings and thoughts knotted up-

That's why, before, her gloves kept returning although she put them down. She only exists as she imagines herself, with all the habits she doesn't give thought to.

Shin-ah falters. Shakes herself. She'll cling to that, she tells herself. She won't forget herself...not again, not yet. "I'm not you," Shin-ah whispers again. Recollections -rough stone on bare feet, hunger biting at her stomach- torrent around her and she can't tell if they're hers or not. She barely hears her own voice. "I'm-"

**_Seiryuu,_ ** a thousand voices answer, crawling over Shin-ah's brain like something with too many legs. She flinches and grits her teeth and does not break.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I ended up reworking a large chunk of this chapter. It took me a few days. Meh. I'm happy enough with it.  
> Writing this chapter took fucking ages. If I were posting it chapter-by-chapter like a normal bloody person, y'all'd've had to wait months.
> 
> I added a few lines to one of the scenes copied from the manga to fill a minor plot hole.

Tears blind Shin-ah as she runs, stumbling over half-melted skulls, feet crushing bony fingers with abandon.

_ What use is she? _

Jae-ha was veritably drowning in ghosts, more than even Zeno, entirely oblivious to her useless efforts to peel them away. Kija was engulfed in a storm of his very own, a miniature typhoon of scales like butterflies that burned Shin-ah's fingertips. Neither of them could see her or hear her screams to  _ please, leave! _ Worse still, neither seemed to feel her presence- yet she could feel  _ theirs, _ twin wildfires in green and white. Shin-ah didn't understand any of it- still doesn't. So she runs on ahead, spurred on by more memories that aren’t hers.

It has been a long time -long enough for bodies to rot and insects to clean bones of flesh- but people have found their way into this tomb before. Before those nameless sorcerers imbued the statue  _ -monument, built by descendants, _ Shin-ah now understands- with a spell to force the livid ghosts into slumber. People found their way in and when the howling ghosts pushed the monument back into place, found themselves trapped. All other entrances are long since collapsed or blocked. Without water, a person will die within a few days...but those poor travelers were dead long before that. Like nightmares that linger too long in the morning light, images are branded over Shin-ah's eyes- bloody nails ripped from fingers raw from uselessly digging-

Shin-ah tastes bile, remembering Jae-ha's sallow face. He can't hold out forever. Sooner or later, the ghosts will possess him too, and-

Everything  _ stops. _

Shin-ah's stomach flips; her heart is hollowed out in an instant and her mind is an overturned carriage, wheels turning and turning and stuck in quagmire disbelief-

There is Hak. Not a step behind...Yona.

Shin-ah doesn't think, can't think -only one thing is whirling through her mind and that's  _ it's not safe, she has to  _ **_run_ ** _ - _ as she flies toward the pair of them, feet barely touching the ground- there's a wordless scream and Shin-ah doesn't know if its hers or another Seiryuu's-

The torch's flame flickers and winks out.

The world rips apart in a lightless explosion and she falls-

* * *

The whirling stops so suddenly Shin-ah is left reeling. Solid ground under her feet, she thinks, and she should be relieved, except...it's the  _ between _ realm all over again. Shin-ah whirls on her heel. There's neither ground nor sky, no rivers of forgotten dead, no misty grey- just a nothingness that hurts Shin-ah's eyes to peer into.

Something shifts in the darkness, a sluggish movement that Shin-ah feels more than sees.

She peers into the  _ nothing, _ drawing shallow breaths, a dull ache building behind her eyes.

...it's difficult to sneak up on Shin-ah; the Blue Dragon's eyes let her see through things that would otherwise conceal...but  _ difficult _ is not  _ impossible _ . She wasn't born knowing to glance around and watch for movement in her surroundings...she remembers an instance years ago: she'd been hunting with only her sword; nobody would lend her a bow even if she'd had the skill- 

...she remembers standing ankle-deep in snow, huffing clouds of breath, when some feeling crept over her. The weight of a voracious, bloodthirsty,  _ intelligent _ gaze, the dropping realization that she had without noticing slipped from predator to prey, the instinct to  _ run _ roaring like a typhoon.

That feeling coils in Shin-ah now, twining through her stomach and up her spine. Her fingers twitch for her sword but she dares not move.

There in the dark, there is something massive and ancient...and so very still.

A second drags by, and another, and swells to a minute before Shin-ah thinks of moving. That thing...whatever it is, it's slumbering. Shin-ah exhales.  _ Find Yona. Warn her. _ This is what she must do now. She acted without thinking, again. Closing her eyes, Shin-ah thinks back, rerunning every half-second.

...oh. She’d charged at them...specifically, toward Yona. Had fallen. Memories that were never hers stir.

_ No- _

Shin-ah turns in place, stomach roiling. She had been sent to the in-between realm when the old Blue Dragon possessed her. So....logic said that Yona would be flung there if Shin-ah possessed _her._ To that endless grey- alone-

_ I didn’t mean to- _

But that never mattered, did it?

Shin-ah braces herself against the sneering, mocking whisper. Think,  _ think, _ she hisses to herself. If she’d stolen Yona’s body, she would be seeing the mausoleum through her eyes. She raises calloused fingers that are nothing like Yona’s slender ones. Lifts her head toward suffocating darkness.  _ None _ and  _ every _ possibilities to eliminate, and nowhere to begin, ignorant as she is.

...is she alone? No sooner than the horrible question slinks up -and why is it twisting her stomach when she should be relieved? She can follow the link to the other Dragons back home again, no worries about leaving Yona here except  _ it’s not the in-between and Ao and Abi aren’t here and what if she can’t-  _ than something catches in her periphery.

A flash of dawn-scarlet.

Shin-ah turns. Her mind is muddled and her legs won't move. She wants to run forward and she wants to flee. Her tongue lies flat and dead in her mouth and the tears that have plagued her all day won't come.

Yona has no such hesitation. "Shin-ah!" she calls, running toward the older girl. Her lips spread into a glowing smile and all Shin-ah can think is  _ I don't deserve this. _ Still beaming, Yona catches Shin-ah's hands in her own. Her touch is spring sunlight. "Thank goodness, we were looking for you!"

_ Dangerous, _ some part of Shin-ah reminds herself. She yanks her hands away, trying to ignore the hurt that flashes over Yona's face. Stepping back, she works her jaw. Her mouth opens but no words come. "...Yona..." Shin-ah manages. The name is a prayer in her broken voice.

Yona says nothing. Her smile is gone now, and those amethyst eyes are liquid-soft. Her hands hang at her sides as she searches Shin-ah's face.

Shin-ah glances away, lashes dipping. She thinks about ghosts and memories and scales like butterflies, about Zeno too still and a extinguished torchlight. She doesn't know how to explain it all, let alone tell Yona to run while she can, while the door out is open-

_...is _ it still open? Shin-ah wracks her brain but it's no good; like an idiot she'd been too distracted to notice whether the monument’s door had been open or not. She hadn't heard it close, a small part of her whispers. Shin-ah shakes herself. "Don't come to me," she whispers. "It's- not safe."

Yona's brows furrow. "Shin-ah?"

Shin-ah looks away. Those lavender eyes, somehow now painful to look into, are still searching, yet Yona remains silent.

Yona is impossibly patient, Shin-ah thinks, and this is another thing she will forever be grateful for. She has to -somehow- show Yona that it isn't safe, that she needs to get away...Shin-ah swallows. Her mind bubbles with panic, thoughts swirling and flying apart before they cross the gap into words. "Souls," she begins, "that bear strong grudges are targeting everyone." The words sound stilted even to  _ her, _ her voice jerky with its weird pauses and probably still too flat.

Shin-ah plows forward. "Right now...I can't control my body." She remembers Zeno slung over her own shoulder, the spirit's jeers. "I...used my power on Zeno," Shin-ah says. Her voice breaks as fresh realization strikes: what if it had been someone else he targeted?  _ Anyone _ else? A sob claws from her throat, and the dam shatters. Tears pour down her face, blurring her vision. Her frame quakes.

Yona sweeps forward, and Shin-ah doesn't have the will to push her away. She folds, melting into the shorter girl's embrace.  _ Selfish, _ a voice in Shin-ah's heart mutters. The older Seiryuu was right about one thing: she is dangerous.

It would have been better for everyone if she had just stayed in that mountain from the beginning, if she'd just refused Yona's request to come with her...

Selfish, Shin-ah thinks again. She is absolutely selfish. Those few words  _ -I don't care if you're cursed- _ had been the pebble to set off a landslide. With those words, Shin-ah now realizes, she saw a chance for happiness. She took it. Like a fool, she took it...and this is where that one second of idiocy has led.

A numbing weight settles deeper over Shin-ah. She  _ knows _ what she must say -leave, please leave me here- and she cannot summon the voice. Every second that passes brings higher risk of Yona and Hak, Jae-ha and Kija dying in these catacombs, Shin-ah  _ knows _ this and yet...she can't. She  _ can't. _

She cannot be alone again.

They stand that way for some time- seconds or hours, Shin-ah cannot tell. Too soon, Yona steps back, palms still at Shin-ah's sides. Liquid amethyst finds gold. "Shin-ah," Yona murmurs. "What on earth is holding you down?"

Shin-ah blinks through tears. "Seiryuu," she offers in a hoarse, brittle whisper. The one she's talking about has no other name; there was no one to miraculously appear with a name for  _ him. _ "...from...long ago." 

"Seiryuu from long ago?" Yona echoes.

Shin-ah offers a shaky nod. She presses a palm to her face and fumbles with her next words. "That...that person's heart was conveyed to me...there was a Seiryuu village here a long time ago."  _ Gods. _ She remembers every house and field. A dozen or more viewpoints, superimposed and crammed into her head. She knows the village square, the lanterns, the storefronts, the quarry...the mausoleum. She remembers them burning, vividly as if she’d lived through it. "One day, it was suddenly attacked by bandits."

Yona's face turns ashen.

"The villagers took the Seiryuu that was still an infant and..." Shin-ah swallows a lump. "Locked the bandits underground." The other entrance had caved in years before; there is only one way in or out. Shin-ah- no,  _ Seiryuu _ had watched in dizzying terror as they laid boards over the stairway and heft stones on top. He'd howled as he sprinted past startled bandits for the thinning beams of sunlight-  _ they  _ said _ they would come back for him- _

Shin-ah clenches her hand around her wrist, fingernails digging into skin. She has to finish. "They...used the previous Seiryuu as a decoy." Shin-ah presses her fingers to her stomach. Drags them over the scar there. Memories superimpose upon each other: blood pouring out over a dusty road, blood pouring out onto grimy stone- she gulps air. "The Seiryuu fought with the bandits and got hurt. He...wasn't able to leave...this place."

What she thinks of too late, what she ought to say: he had clung to the only life he had ever known. "That's the person inside my body right now," Shin-ah finishes.

Reaching up, Yona wipes the tears from Shin-ah's face with her sleeve. She dabs at one eye, then the other. Unknowable emotion swirls in her eyes. When she at last speaks, her voice is low. Level. "Are you telling me that person's story because you're worried about their situation?"

Yona's question rings like a hammer striking a brass bell. Shin-ah's eyes widen. It's wrong- she shouldn't be  _ worried _ of all things about the person who stole her body and used it to attack her friends...no matter how pitiful he is, no matter how much she...

...yes, Shin-ah does not say aloud. Despite her own inability to communicate, Yona has found the heart of it.

Stepping back, Yona looks up at where a sky ought to be. Her eyes flash. "Shin-ah, clear the way. You're the one who put me to sleep, right?"

_ Sleep? _ Neither of them are asleep. Shin-ah shakes her head. Even if they return, even if Shin-ah could somehow keep the other spirits at bay...

They will close the entrance and Yona will die of thirst in the best-case scenario. "You can't..." Shin-ah begins to protest, and then trails off because Yona takes Shin-ah's hand in both of hers, and all Shin-ah can think for a moment is how soft her fingertips are before she jerks herself back to reality. Yona absolutely  _ cannot _ follow-

"I'll come for you. As many times as it takes."

Shin-ah can only stare. Something slides down her cheek and drips onto her robe. She is crying again.

Yona pulls Shin-ah in this time, their foreheads brushing. "It's okay." She looks up. Her hand cups Shin-ah's cheek. Her eyes are violet steel. Her smile is blazing sunlight. "No matter what you do, our hearts will remain unshaken. Let's go back together, Shin-ah."

Light envelopes everything.

* * *

Something pulls Shin-ah through rushing light and dark, the torrent spiraling around her. Then her feet are touching ground and she's windmilling her arms to catch herself. Her fingers pass through a familiar stone wall. She straightens. Looks around.

Hak kneels at the foot of the carved steps, cradling Yona with one arm. He clenches an extinguished torch in his other hand. Smoke still curls from the burned end- has no time passed at all? Hak curses, shifting Yona. Beneath closed lids, her eyes twitch.

Clammy, decayed hands tug at Yona's face. Another spirit leans on Hak's shoulder. Shin-ah drags her eyes away from the two of them. Her heart falls. Above, the statue entrance is closed.

If she had been quicker...if she hadn't disturbed the wretched seal to begin with-!

Shin-ah's teeth clench. She looks at Hak and Yona.

She has to deal with bigger problems now than her failings. Dropping to one knee, her breath ghosts over Yona’s ear. "I will return," she promises, and rises as crimson eyelashes flutter.

Shin-ah doesn’t know what she’ll do yet, or even what is possible. Unable to fight, she has only words now. She hugs herself against the tide screaming  _ helpless, useless.  _ Because maybe she is, like this. Even so…

_ Let’s go back together. _

...Yona will never abandon her. So Shin-ah will never cease protecting her.

She cannot fail.

* * *

"They've come this far," Seiryuu is musing in Shin-ah's voice when she enters the room. His gaze -hers?- flicks to her. "But then..."

Zeno frowns at the far wall, ignoring Seiryuu and Shin-ah alike.

Seiryuu flashes jagged fangs. "It feels like Ryokuryuu has reached his limit."

...relief. That’s _relief_ on his face, even if his voice doesn’t hold it. Shin-ah's mouth tightens. Behind Seiryuu, Zeno is struggling to rise. He didn't tie Zeno's legs, she realizes. She marches toward the older Blue Dragon. "You're underestimating Jae-ha," she says flatly.

Seiryuu doesn’t respond to that, except to search the wall -no, what lies past it- and give a little eyeroll.

Zeno clambers to his feet. "You can hustle, you can bustle," he hums under his breath. "But don't...you...

Shin-ah's eyes flash. "And...you underestimated Zeno."

_ "-CRY!" _ Zeno's forehead slams into Seiryuu's back. Seiryuu topples, a yelp escaping his mouth. Zeno leaps onto his back, drives his knee into his spine.

"Whoops." Zeno grins. "Sorry!"

Seiryuu snarls, thrashing. Zeno straddles his back and leans back to draw Shin-ah's sword halfway from the sheath. In half a second, he’s maneuvered the sword between his arched back and the ropes-

Shin-ah  _ knows _ what practiced motions look like  _ so how many times has- _

-Zeno wrenches his arms forward, the rope snapping on the blade’s edges and falling away. He leaps to his feet at the same instant the Seiryuu manages to hurl himself onto his side. Seiryuu scrambles up, chest heaving.

Zeno rests the sword’s flat on his shoulder. Stretches out his other arm and sets his hand at his hip. "Now then, I'm free."

Seiryuu's hands fist. It doesn’t hide their trembling. "What will you do? Kill me with that sword?"

Zeno doesn't flinch at the biting tone. His eyes soften. "I can't do that."

For an instant there is only naked relief. Then Seiryuu’s expression morphs again, wariness bordering hysteria clouding Shin-ah’s features. “Right?” He jabs toward himself, eyes too bright. “You’ll hurt this girl.”

"That’s fine,” Shin-ah interrupts. There isn’t so much as a blink in response.

Zeno rolls his weight from foot to foot, doe-eyed, not tensed to lunge at all. "There's that, too, but..."

He shifts Shin-ah's sword, and in a flash it hits her what he's planning. A protest is halfway from her mouth before she quashes it. The rational part of her knows  _ it's Zeno so he'll be fine, no matter what _ but the rest of her wants to wrench her weapon from him.

She doesn’t move. It won’t do a bit of good. Just watches as Zeno swings the sword back and forth like it’s a stick or a toy. It might as well be, to him.

"It's because all of the Dragons other than Zeno are like Abi, Shuten and Guen's children. I can't help but find you all endearing," Zeno admits. He lifts the sword. "Here I go!"

Shin-ah flinches as he brings it down on his arm. Blood sprays his robes. His hand  _ thumps _ to the ground.

Seiryuu stumbles backward, mouth agape. "Wha-"

Shin-ah can't tear her eyes away from the blood pouring from the stump. Zeno picks up his chopped-off hand and holds it to his stump. "Ryokuryuu's in trouble, and the candles in this room are almost all used up. It's unsightly, but..."

_ Unsightly.  _ Shin-ah looks away, a translucent hand shielding her gaze. She can’t block out that awful  _ squelch _ that means Zeno’s muscles and tendons are lashing themselves together, the papery grind of bones fusing again. Shin-ah is not squeamish, but to watch Zeno’s power emerge…to see it in the unrelenting detail her power gives…

When she looks back at him, Seiryuu looks nauseated. Scales throw candlelight as Zeno lifts his arm. He meets Seiryuu's stare. "I'll be breaking out now."

Seiryuu does not move- by the look on his  _ -her own-  _ face cannot. He knows now: Zeno was never trapped. They both watch, one frozen and one standing back, as Zeno flexes the scaled arm- then charges with a shout.

Knuckles slam into stone. The wall  _ shatters,  _ cracks rippling through stone and the shockwave is enough to knock Seiryuu stumbling and-

Thunderous  _ cacophony- _

Shin-ah is frozen in place, paralyzing terror warring with the instinct to duck and fling her arms over her head because she  _ knows _ that noise  _ it means solid earth has turned to liquid and tunnels are collapsing and floors are giving way and- _

Shrieking-  _ they _ know that sound too, it shouldn’t be surprising when  _ all of them _ grew up trapped underground-

-Seiryuu sees her. Identical eyes meet and no judgement passes between them; his flinch mirrored her own.

The echoes haven’t quieted when a shout breaks them apart.

_ “Zeno!” _

Kija is here.  _ Alive- _

Shaking out his wrist, Zeno steps over the rubble, where a curtain of dust has not yet fallen. "Ryokuryuu, are you alive?" he calls out.

Jae-ha manages a reply, and Shin-ah can breathe. Seiryuu staggers forward to grab the sword Zeno dropped in the chaos.

Shin-ah flings her arm out to block. "Give up-!" Half-pleading. Seiryuu passes right through her without even a wince, as though-

The cold pierces deeper, a twisting knife.

-as though she isn’t merely a ghost, but doesn’t even  _ exist. _

The sword wavers in Seiryuu’s grasp as he levels the point at Zeno's back. "Ouryuu, just what the hell is your power?" he demands.

Kija strides toward him.

Seiryuu tenses. His eyes narrow. "Hakury-"

White scales  _ explode.  _ Kija slams Seiryuu into the wall. Shin-ah’s head smacks against stone with an ugly  _ crack. _ The sword clatters to the ground. Claws dig into Seiryuu's scalp and cheek. "Return. My. Younger. Sister," Kija growls.

Shin-ah's chest tightens. She has to help somehow, she decides. She won’t stand here and wait to be saved and she will not watch her family die here-

She wants to scream and laugh. Unseen by half the people here and ignored by the rest and she has only words and those have never been her strength,  _ what can she possibly do? _

She doesn’t know why it hooks her attention. The spirit is one of countless, its form distorted beyond recognition. No human or beast casts a shadow in that shape. Raw anger emanates from it, thick enough to choke on.

_ “Why?” _

The word falls from Shin-ah’s mouth before she realizes it. Somehow, despite all expectations, what is left of the shade responds.

It doesn’t speak. She isn’t sure it’s capable of that. But it shifts, lifting what must be a head. Baleful eyes glow with a dimming light, and that suffocating wrath does not budge.

Mere steps away, Seiryuu is laughing bitterly and saying something now. Shin-ah doesn’t give mind to him, caught by horrific thoughts blooming. It takes a moment to find her voice. “Do...you remember...who it is you hate?”

Ugly petals unfurl. The shade twitches and jerks, spitting wordless snarls.

Desperation laps higher. “Do you remember  _ why?” _

She doesn’t expect a response. She isn’t surprised. But her own question hammers home something else: you can only hold onto so much. She’s seen it in the recollections of her own childhood and glanced over in Zeno’s confession. You can remember one thing, but you have to forget the rest.

This spirit has remembered its rage, to the exclusion of the source of it. Pity carves at Shin-ah as she stares down at the shade, struck dumb by this realization. Memories and thoughts and feelings, unrooted and changeable- that’s all the dead are. Memories can be forgotten. Thoughts are fleeting. Feelings can change. Are they -and she includes herself in that word- even real? Can they be called real with their existence so...erasable?

Feelings can change, she thinks again. She witnessed it firsthand, to her horror. Everything she was gone, her very identity  _ drowned _ by-

Shin-ah kneels by the distorted ghost. Her skin prickles; she ignores the few who see her.

-she underwent  _ that, _ so she should be sickened by the very idea of inflicting it. Maybe some part is, the same part shamed by spilling blood, the part always ignored. Being merciful...being a good person- that’s a luxury for someone with no one to protect.

A translucent palm lands on the shade. White-hot  _ hatred _ spikes-

Shin-ah closes her eyes.

She was not an angry child, and it is only now that Shin-ah begins to glimpse the unusualness of that. Frustrations that should have sparked temper tantrums -should have been a catalyst for something greater- instead burned out like so many windblown candles. Then, as  _ now, _ hatred and fury are swallowed by a whirlpool of despair and something that is not apathy.

Apathy means not caring, but Shin-ah could never  _ not _ care. It is resignation, an understanding that is the foundation of a worldview that nothing will, can or should change.

The hatred withers, a dry and hollow husk crumbling as the shade deflates. The tone of its grumbling changes. Lowers.

Shin-ah moves from one shade to another. Some are as far gone as the first, but others have managed to cling to scraps of their identities. A Blue Dragon who can’t be older than ten watches Shin-ah with saucer eyes. “That one called you  _ little sister,” _ she whispers. “I think...someone called me that...too? I-I don’t know. It w-was so long ago. I don’t know  _ I don’t know-” _

Shin-ah doesn’t know how to reply to that. “I’m sorry,” she stutters. It goes unheard. She hurries away to other ghosts. Another wants someone only to  _ listen, _ a request Shin-ah obliges. Others stare back at her with eyes devoid of intelligence.

“-I don’t mind. I’ll bear it all,” Kija is spitting when Shin-ah passes by him. She can’t afford to focus on him, yet she feels the eyes following her as she pries a shade off Jae-ha’s shoulder-

_ They lied  _ Its fury is a winter storm _ they lied and then they _ **_left_ **

Shin-ah seizes that thought, holds it crumpled in her fists. “Stop it,” she murmurs. “It’s over. It doesn’t matter anymore.  _ It’s over.” _

The ghost slides out of her hands like oil and sinks into stone. It’s not malicious. Not really. Somehow, that doesn’t make things better at all.

She catches movement in the corner of her eye. She ignores it, to focus on the ghosts beside her. One tracks the living Dragons on the other side of the room.

“-the divine protection of the Hakuryuu ancestors is too strong,” Seiryuu is saying, and that snags Shin-ah’s attention just enough that she glances up-

Kija is too slow,  _ he isn’t a fighter  _ and Zeno is supporting Jae-ha and they’re too far anyway and Shin-ah is  _ still damnably helpless- _

-Seiryuu grabs Shin-ah’s sword and slashes through the air. Kija stumbles back.

“Don’t!” Shin-ah roars. A shimmering ghost shrinks back as she charges for them. She skids through air to a halt, mind surging. What will she do? Does she expect him to listen?

Of course not.

She plants her feet, watches, and  _ thinks. _ Seiryuu has backed into a corner, wall on either side of him and sword clasped in both hands. His eyes are held wide, whites visible on every side of those pupils. His lips are parted, his breath ragged.

Kija moves-

“Kija,” Jae-ha warns. Kija stills.

There’s no promise Zeno can save them again.

Seiryuu is a trapped wolf now, hackles raised and every tooth bared. He shifts further back, his back plastered to the wall. Shin-ah can see the balances dip and rise in his head. Loose his power and take the backlash. How long can he hold out before it strikes? And Zeno...can Seiryuu guess the extent of his power? Will Zeno harm one he claims as a great-nephew?

She has only words now. She prays it will be enough. Shin-ah steps forward. Edges between her brother and her older cousin, lifting her hands. “...Seiryuu. Don’t.”

His gaze flits up to her; identical eyes meet again. She knows that expression because she’s  _ made  _ it; he is frozen over with terror. Without the mask to hold him back, his power is coiled tight, an bowstring drawn too far and cutting into fingertips-

The wrong move, and everything breaks.

“Seiryuu,” Shin-ah whispers.  _ “Think.” _ The request is as much to her as it is to him. “You...want a second chance, right?”

A swallow. Kija fidgets, but moves neither forward nor back. He won’t make the first move, Shin-ah thinks. Not like this, not when the balance is so damningly delicate and his opponent is holding back and on the verge of tears. He is not cruel.

Shin-ah inhales nothing. Gathers up the tangle of her thoughts and lets them unspool. “You stole my body. I was furious. But now...I’m not. I don’t think I could be. I understand it...wanting, so badly, something  _ else. _ A new start, a second chance... _ anything _ other than what you’ve been forced to go through for no reason at all, beside the bad luck of being born into the role of the Blue Dragon.”

She pauses. Goes on. “I know...I grew up alone too. I also lived underground, separated from the sky. It was a little better for me, because my  _ duty  _ meant I could go outside sometimes...but still, I- I know what it’s like to be hated like that...and I wished that I was normal, too.”

Seiryuu’s reaction: nothing at all. He inhales and exhales, jaw still set and tears teeming at the corners of his eyes, from strain or something more  _ Shin-ah doesn’t know- _

Her chin dips. “But...you can’t have it -your second chance- like this. My friends won’t give up. Even if you stop Kija and Jae-ha’s hearts, Zeno won’t let that go. If ghosts can be sealed, can’t they be driven out? Surely, that’s possible? Even if it’s just Zeno...he will never stop looking for a way.” She lifts her head. “...and I will never forgive you.”

His eyes finally,  _ finally  _ break away from Kija right as he flinches, land on her.

“Please,” Shin-ah says. He has to get it. “Your hatred for the ones who locked you here and the ones who killed you...let go. They’re gone; you’re the last one left. You don’t need to hold onto those memories forever. Let go, and  _ truly _ start over from-”

She doesn’t notice the movement until it’s too late: a brown blur through a transparent ankle. Ao darts up Seiryuu’s leg in the time it takes Shin-ah to process that  _ Ao is here  _ and  _ Ao is in danger again  _ and she moves without thinking-

Incredulity or betrayal or anger flash through Seiryuu’s face in an instant. Shin-ah stops dead, hands flying up to show that she wasn’t trying to force him out again, she wasn’t trying to make him uncaring like the other ghosts but her voice is gummed up, any eloquence gone with her hope-

The next instant: Seiryuu’s face twists into something mad, his eyes wildfires. He switches to a one-handed grip, the other arm flinging outward, catching Ao who’s gone to leap at her owner like she does all the time-

“What an annoying squirrel!” Seiryuu hisses, at the same time Shin-ah snarls  _ “Don’t-!” _

She’s helpless,  _ useless _ and Kija is too slow as he raises his arm again-

_ “You’re in the way!”  _ Seiryuu snarls.

A voice rings out through the chaos.

“Shin-ah.”

Shin-ah halts. Turns. Yona stands in the doorway, back blade-straight and chin high. Her eyes are full of winter sun, burning cold light. Her cloak snaps around her heels as she strides forward.

Seiryuu’s eyes widen further, his breath hitching.

He glimpsed Shin-ah’s memories. Of course he recognizes her.

Seiryuu’s strike arrested, the desperate struggle has been diverted before blood could be drawn. Kija is fine. Ao is fine too; she landed on her feet and ran off to Zeno, so there’s no reason that Shin-ah should get angry. She can’t, not if she wants to…

She fights to keep her voice level. Tries to capture Zeno’s eerie gentleness. “You...keep saying that it’s our -your- fate to be abandoned...hated, because of what we are. But...Yona was the first person who walked up to me and asked me what my name was. I said  _ Seiryuu,  _ and...”

Yona hands Kija a bundle of wrapped onigiri, oblivious to Shin-ah’s faltering words.

“...she insisted that I have a proper name, because that was her way of saying that...I was a person, too.  _ That I wasn’t an abomination.” _

Yona squares her shoulders as she marches toward Seiryuu. He looks through her, eyes locked with Shin-ah’s.

Shin-ah plows forward, her voice thinned to a croak. “She isn’t the only one. I’ve met so many people who don’t know and some who don’t  _ care  _ that I’m the Blue Dragon, and I’ve always thought that was impossible-”

A lightning-flash realization. The words are spilled before Shin-ah can process them, and the part of her not locked in place here listens spellbound. “-they looked at me, at you, at everyone else who was like us...and  _ Seiryuu _ was all they saw or would ever see.”

_ “Chains made out of fear,”  _ someone says. Shin-ah looks up; another spirit winds among stalactites. A rumble of voices grows as the lingering spirits murmur agreement.

_ Chains _ is not something Shin-ah would think of...yet it fits perfectly. Hadn’t she stayed, even when she was grown enough that she  _ could _ have braved the outside if-

_ “-fear of unknown was-” _

Something in Seiryuu’s expression  _ breaks. _

_ “-can we really hope?” _

“Yes,” Shin-ah says. She searches for the one who asked, and cannot find them. “You can hope- you must find the courage. Please, believe me- things  _ can _ be better. They will be.”

Silence answers. Not the silence of abandonment  _ turning their backs  _ but something…

...warmer.

The world holds its breath.

With every word, Yona has crept closer to Seiryuu. Tears sparkle on his cheeks; she falters. Her voice is feather-soft. “What’s wrong?”

Seiryuu can only stare. “...I don’t  _ know,”  _ he whispers, his voice halfway to a whimper. The image of a cowering wolf, leg caught in a trap and gnawed through muscle, muzzle caked with crimson, resurges. He flinches as his eyes snap toward her. The sword hilt drops from slack fingers and clangs on stone. “What... _ are _ you?”

If the question is strange, Yona is unruffled. “Just a human being. I won’t be able to go against you if you use your powers or possess me.”

“She’s...kind,” Shin-ah answers. “Truly, amazingly kind.”

Seiryuu staggers against the wall, digging fingernails into his cheeks. “Why are my legs shaking?” he breathes to no one. “My tears won’t stop- this fear is so great...and I...can’t get near you anymore-”

His legs give out.

Yona embraces the older Blue Dragon. “I heard everything from Shin-ah.”

It won’t do any good to say  _ no, you didn’t, I didn’t say everything I should have- _

“-why don't you tell me everything?”

Seiryuu clenches his eyes closed, and speaks. He lays out the barest bones of his life, and Shin-ah wonders, as his words wash over her, if Yona can hear what he can’t say- what, surely, there aren’t words for…

“-I could only curse everything.” Seiryuu gulps air. He crumples somehow more as a battered gaze rises towards a fading spirit. “My friends are only the souls who were left here.”

As if on that note, the spirit blinks out of existence, fingers still curled to beckon. Yona rubs circles on Seiryuu’s shoulder. “Yeah. That's why Shin-ah temporarily lent you her body. Even though you did such bad things to Zeno and everyone, she still pitied you.”

“I didn’t-” Shin-ah begins.

Beneath her touch, Seiryuu stiffens. “...she lent me her body on purpose?”

“Shin-ah is a kind person. Such a very kind person.”

Shin-ah’s protest dies. She ducks her head, ears and cheeks hot. Seiryuu glances to her, then at Yona and back again, a strange, clouded expression settling on his face. Under that ineffable gaze, Shin-ah misses what Yona says.

Seiryuu pulls away from Yona. “That’s enough,” he murmurs, splaying his fingers over his face. “I already knew...no matter how much I struggled, my time wouldn’t return.” Eyes cloud over. His voice softens, uncertain, each word winding through a maze. “I...wonder why...”

Identical golden eyes meet.

“It feels like I’ve been waiting for you to come-”

A thread snaps.

* * *

_I...I wasn’t_ ** _done._** _I still have so much to say._ _I’m holding on now, with the last of my strength, so…_

The first sensation that returns is smell.

_...you can hear me, right? _

Not quite a stench, not unpleasant but for the memories it carries. The scent of earth -not upturned dirt of fresh-ploughed fields, just stale cave air- clings to the back of Shin-ah’s throat.

_I...I just wanted to say...thank you. I was being stupid. Really stupid. I was frightened...no,_ ** _terrified._** _But you brought me back from the edge, just enough to see that._

Touch returns next.  _ Cold _ is nothing new. Drowning out the chill is rough ground against her cheek, her side, her arms. The sensation of  _ not being upright _ fades in, shoved aside by being sprawled out, knees bent, fingers loosely curled around nothing.

_ Thank you. For everything. _

She feels more than sees the shadow loom over her and a hand drops and fingertips graze her cheekbone-

_ It’s stupid, but...I hope that we can meet again in our next lives...no. We won’t remember. Neither of us will. Still...still, I’m happy that we could meet. _

Her eyes snap open. Shin-ah bolts upright, black blooming and fading over her vision, muscles tensing before she sees the person hovering over her-

“-Yona.” The name escapes Shin-ah’s mouth, reflex more than thought.

Yona peers up at her. “Shin-ah?” 

The room sways as Shin-ah staggers to her feet. Her head throbs when she turns it to take in everyone’s faces. Yona, Jae-ha, Kija, Hak, Zeno, Ao. It doesn’t feel real. “I’m...back,” she murmurs. The words solidify it all a bit more, and that’s all she gets out before Kija tackles her in a hug.

“Shin-ah, you’re back!”

Shin-ah manages a nod, Kija’s hair brushing her chin. It’s...she doesn’t have a word that’s enough. Kija releases her. His lips warble.

“Kija?” Shin-ah ventures.

“I’m relieved. I was so worried about you!”

Tears in her own eyes, Yona smiles up at Kija. “Yeah. Everyone was.”

Zeno’s eyes twinkle as he picks up a stubby candle. “Well, that was one rough situation for an old man,” he announces to the room at large.

Shin-ah flinches. “I’m sorry...everyone…” She can’t say the rest-  _ I’m sorry for putting you all in danger just because I was stupid? _

Kija squeezes her hand. Her eyes dart to him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Shin-ah looks away. She can’t  _ not,  _ she thinks. How can Kija be so forgiving? She...if Seiryuu hadn’t listened, if any of the others hadn’t listened...of course, Shin-ah concludes. She can feel a sort of numbness settling around her brain as the facts fall down around her. Kija has no idea what happened...what almost happened. For whatever reason, nobody could touch him.

“-what’s most important is that you’re safe,” Kija says, warmth suffusing his words.

He’s so _sincere,_ and Shin-ah...stops. Any words she might have said turn to glue. Her eyes feel oddly damp-

They are not so far underground that the air is corpse-still and that moving air -something trying for a gentle breeze- grazes the damp corners of Shin-ah’s eyes and it’s  _ cold  _ but not as bad as the realization that bashes her.

_ -she isn’t wearing her mask. _

Shin-ah’s hand flies to her face, fingers splaying across her eyes. She jerks away from Kija, squeaking when her shoulder rams the wall. She shoots a glance toward Jae-ha through her fingers, before looking down. She hadn’t even thought about it- Seiryuu didn’t wear it when he was possessing her, did he…?

Stupid. Careless.  _ Dangerous. _

“Your mask is outside,” Hak volunteers.

Yona lists her head, brows furrowing. “Do you...still need it?”

The question drops into the cloud of Shin-ah’s rising panic, and that break is enough. She drags out her exhale. Picks at the knot of nerves growing in her stomach.  _ Do I? _ Her mask is a shield, separating her from the rest of the world.  _ For their own good.  _ It’s a failsafe, made for the worst-case scenario: if her power wakes and she…

...it’s the one barb he didn’t mean. Just by walking around, the older Seiryuu has confirmed what she dreads to say. Her mask is a  _ crutch. _

She beckons to Ao with shaky fingers. Ao scales her leg, her side, and crouches at her collarbone. A fluffy tail brushes her chin as she jerks her head in a  _ no.  _ “...but...it’s a memento,” Shin-ah says. It isn’t a lie; of the things Seiryuu Ao left her, that mask is a hefty one-third. She drags her hand downward. Strokes Ao’s head, and tries not to focus on how  _ exposed _ she is. “...I feel at ease wearing it,” Shin-ah mumbles before her brain catches up with her mouth. It’s not a lie either.

Yona nods. “I see.” There isn’t any judgement in her tone, and maybe that’s the worst part. Yona turns to the room at large. “Well then, shall we head back?”

“The entrance is closed.” Hak waves his hand, fanning the torch’s scraggly flame. It blazes brighter, then dies to a glow almost immediately.

Shin-ah frowns. Jae-ha mumbles something she doesn’t catch. Before, the entrance could be operated by ghosts because of the enchantments on the seal. If the ghosts are gone…could they break out by sheer force? With Zeno...

“Leave it to me!” Lifting his claw, Kija marches toward the far entrance-

The torch sputters and dies, leaving smoke spiraling lazily up. Hak starts huffing at the burnt end.

“Oh, no,” Zeno says. He shuffles toward the wall, hand groping air until his fingers graze stone. He searches the wall with his hands until he finds an alcove. “The candles went out-” 

“The torches aren’t any good, either,” Hak relents. “And Yun’s got the flint.”

“Here, I have some.” Jae-ha tosses a thumb-sized block from his pocket toward Hak. It sails past his head and clatters to the floor.

Hak stares through darkness.“Droopy Eyes. Did you just... _ throw _ it at me?”

Jae-ha’s mouth falls open, and he lifts a hand before apparently thinking better of it. “Uh-”

“In a _ pitch-black room?” _

“Zeno thinks that Ryokuryuu is too young to be going senile.”

Jae-ha scowls in Zeno’s direction. Huffs. “So we’re all finally dying happily together, huh?”

Yona’s smile begins to fall. Panic edges her voice. “This...is a problem, huh?”

Stepping toward her, Shin-ah takes her hand in her own. “It’s alright. I...can see.” Yona turns her head toward Shin-ah and ends up looking somewhere over her shoulder.

Still holding Yona’s hand, Shin-ah steps around her and offers her other hand to Hak, the next nearest person. “Hold on.”

There’s a scramble, and Shin-ah finds herself in the center of a tangle before she realizes her mistake. Zeno practically hangs off her arm. Kija is squished between her and Jae-ha. Hak is resting his arm on Yona’s head. She shoves him.

“No,” Shin-ah says, her voice muffled by Kija’s hair. He tries to wriggle away and elbows the back of Zeno’s head. “In single file.”

She isn’t used to telling others what to do. Weirder still is everyone listening. They shuffle around until everyone stands in a line, linking hands with one another. Hak fumbles and grabs Zeno’s hand, and then Shin-ah begins to walk. She leads them between the rows of tombs, into a tunnel.

“Shin-ah, you’re so dependable!” Yona says behind her.

Suddenly, Shin-ah is glad nobody else can see. Ears burning, she looks ahead. Her eyes prickle and itch as warmth  _ -power-  _ trickles into them. That stone is familiar...the entrance is  _ this  _ way.

They walk onward. Shin-ah wonders if Yun is still at camp.

They near a nasty part of the tunnel, where the diggers had left more stalagmites and stalactites. She ducks; Yona is short enough that she doesn’t have to. “Ah...be careful not to hit yourself above,” Shin-ah calls behind her.

“Right-” Kija begins, before there’s a sound of something smacking stone and he yelps.

Shin-ah looks back. Kija is rubbing his head. His hair is askew.

Jae-ha snickers as he weaves around the lowest-hanging stalactite. “Kija, really, you’re so forgetful-”

He walks right into a second stalactite. He clamps a hand over his nose, blood gushing down his lips and chin.

Zeno’s cackle bounces off the stone. “You’re both idiots-”

There’s a _ crack.  _ Shin-ah whirls around again, and winces. Zeno’s foot has snagged on a rock; he lies face down on rock. He jumps to his feet, apparently none the worse for the broken skin on his forehead and dirt now smeared over his face.

“You guys are entertaining,” Hak mutters. Shuffling forward and feeling for low-hanging stalactites, he manages to avoid a strike to the head of any kind. As they begin their slow march onward, a noise echoes through the tunnels.

Yona stops. Her hand slips out of Shin-ah’s. “What was that?”

“We can hear a strange voice,” Zeno says.

Jae-ha frowns, squinting into the shadows. “It can’t be. More ghosts?”

Had she missed someone? She was sure...Shin-ah concentrates. Her eyes grow warm, and the world brightens. Details sharpen. She focuses on the far wall, then peers  _ beyond. _ Stone pales, turning translucent like cloth held up to sunlight. The shadowy figure on the other side sharpens-

Shin-ah’s eyes widen. Her power snaps back.

_ Yun? _ How...

“It’s coming this way,” Hak says. He throws up a hand to shield his eyes when firelight blazes from around the corner. Yun enters the tunnel. He spots them. Something that must be relief flashes over his face before he scowls at them all, planting a hand on his hip. “There you are, you stupid rare beasts! You’re late, you idiots!” Still, he’s struggling not to smile as he marches toward them all, muttering. “Don’t put me through so much trouble. Idiots! Geez, such a pain.”

Yona stifles a giggle. “Yun, how did you get here?”

“I could hear something from far away, and when I went to check it out, I found another entrance.” Yun holds the end of his torch to Hak’s extinguished one. The tunnel brightens. Yun huffs. He looks from one person to another, his eyes red. “It was dark, I was alone, and the onigiri I brought got cold!”

_ “Mother!” _

“I don’t remember giving birth to you!”

Yona pats his shoulder. “Sorry, Yun.”

“Sorry, Yun,” Kija echoes. “I’ll gladly take the onigiri.”

Yun shoves a square, cloth-wrapped package at him. Kija peels back the cloth, revealing a dozen triangles of rice in neat rows. Taking one, he holds it out toward the others. Shin-ah doesn’t take one.

“Yun, where’s the other entrance?” Hak asks.

Yun points. “This way.”

They follow Yun back through the labyrinth, Shin-ah bringing up the rear. Everyone manages to avoid the low-hanging stalactites the second time around. They pass through the central room, where everything ended -and maybe where everything began, Shin-ah thinks- and she spots something.

There’s a skull on the ground. Bleached by age, lying on the ground in the place  _ he _ bled out and closed his eyes for the final time. There’s half of a mask, rotted and crumbling even as she lifts it as gently as she knows.

Shin-ah doesn’t know why she lingers as everyone trails after Yun. A final farewell because she’d been silent when he gave his, maybe. Seiryuu’s last words echo as she crouches and lifts the skull in both hands.  _ I’m glad I could meet you. _

Is she glad?

Shin-ah doesn’t have an answer. Will not, for a long time.

She touches her forehead to his.

More than dead, he’s  _ gone. _ But...impossible means something different now, and so perhaps he will hear her anyway.

“Rest,” Shin-ah whispers. She lays down the skull next to the mask.

“Shin-ah!”

Yun is calling her. Shin-ah rises. “Coming,” she answers.

* * *

Shin-ah pushes the needle through the layers of canvas, then pulls it, raising it high to pull the twine through. The leather of her gloves scrapes her palms as she repeats the motions, over and over. Her boots cramp her toes. Most worryingly: her neck edges close to  _ uncomfortably warm _ beneath the heavy fur.

It's to do with being a ghost. Being  _ dead, _ even for less than a day. Shin-ah knows this with certainty, even if she can't explain it properly. She wasn't numb- but her sense of touch was dampened, and now that everything's normal and right again...

She won’t complain. She'll take it as the price of being seen and being heard, and she'll adjust. She won't cause more trouble than she has already.

Hands still as her gaze dips to sliced-apart canvas. It wasn't her fault; that was the first thing Yun told her when she saw the ruined tent. Yet...

_ Her hands _ wielded  _ her sword _ to destroy these poles and this fabric.

-it wasn't her fault; Yun said so, and Yona and Jae-ha agreed, and then-

A snap of clarity: it’s not about the tent; it’s that _it was too close-_

-Hak and Kija both said she shouldn't blame herself and Zeno said it was all fine, she couldn't have known. And Shin-ah hadn't been able to stop herself; she broke out halfway between whimper and a snap  _ you don't know how close he was to killing you all- _

...Zeno had pulled Shin-ah into a hug; she'd had to bend awkwardly.  _ It's fine, _ he said again.  _ Zeno can be a shield even against Seiryuu's power. _

Shin-ah pierces the fabric again. The needle digs into her thumb as she pushes it between fibers. Zeno's words echo, the bright-eyed smile he'd showed her fixed in her mind's eye, overlapping with another memory not an hour old. He is and was nothing less than sincere.

_ Zeno can be a shield even- _

This whole time, she'd been thinking how  _ lucky _ it was that everyone made it through the ordeal unscathed but...maybe it wasn't luck.  _ You underestimated Zeno,  _ she said, and now she thinks- she’s guilty of the same. And the implications of that...

It’s a new thought. Different, hopeful in a way that will hurt, one she wants to dismiss out of hand-

_...she's not dangerous. _

The words fit together all wrong. Since  _ that day _ -no: even before- there’s been a dread leaning over her shoulder, murmuring  _ what if  _ and  _ one day things will go wrong  _ and with a sentence, Zeno has sent it reeling. She won't have one day to leave for the sake of her friends. Will never have to face that loneliness again. Because...

_ Zeno can be- _

...he shouldn't have to!

How strange it is, Shin-ah thinks, staring down at still hands as the spurt of anger fizzles out, to rely on others. She draws the thread through the fabric, the taut stitch pinching layers of weathered fabric together. Stitch by stitch, she works her way down the jagged tear while her mind drifts.

Seiryuu ruined this tent. Spat on Yun's efforts. Shin-ah ought to be full of righteous anger, but there is only irritation, blunted by weariness and...something more. A lingering unease that things aren't finished yet.

Except they are. It's over. Her kindred are free and passed on, and she's living and whole. It's  _ over. _

Shin-ah pulls the thread taut; a hand's width is left. She cuts it with a knife, knots it and clips the excess. Picks up the spooled thread and the needle again.

Seiryuu said he was glad they met.

She shouldn't return the sentiment. He hurt her friends and would have hurt them more. He hurt Ao. He would have goaded the other Seiryuu  _ -some of them didn't _ know  _ better- _ into ripping everyone's souls from their bodies like he did to her. He would have  _ killed them all. _

She should not be glad that he's found rest.

...their pain was the same.

He was alone and he ran until he was backed into a corner and then he lashed out. She understands this with terrible clarity...and she can't be furious however much she tries. Nor can she be angry at the other ghosts, who just followed where they were lead. Their pain was the same, their fears were the same, their fragile hopes were the same until they weren’t. Seiryuu was a mirror to Shin-ah, the end of a branched road she somehow avoided.

None of her pleas were lies, and that, she thinks, is the heart of it. She wanted to save them -her kin- from the torment Yona saved her from.  _ It’s over,  _ she whispered to one long dead.  _ You don’t need to hold on anymore. _

And she doesn’t need to, either.

* * *

Shin-ah is nearing the end of her mending when she hears footsteps. She looks up, gives a nod and attempts a smile by way of greeting. She had not noticed the absence of his snores: she is more distracted than she thought.

“Morning, Seiryuu,” Zeno says. He settles down next to her on the log, facing the other direction. Kicking his feet, he leans back to look up at the canopies of the trees and the sky. “Zeno supposes it’s past midnight now, anyway.”

“...I haven’t counted the hours,” Shin-ah admits. She fiddles with the needle and the tent and waits for the shoe to drop.

The silence stretches out across moments, until the air is akin to that in the seconds before fighting begins.

At last Zeno speaks. “Did you meet anyone I knew?”

The words are so soft she thinks she must have misheard and yet even as that thought takes form she knows she has not. Their respective title and name  _ -reminders of who they are-  _ gone, there is only one thing Zeno can mean.

_ I did,  _ is what bubbles to Shin-ah’s lips. Abi’s face swims before her eyes. A voice filled with cold fury rings in her ears. “In  _ that _ place-?” she asks instead, praying that he mistakes the anxiety for anything else.

“...they were called  _ gaps, _ when people still...nevermind,” Zeno says, and there is something stony and crumbling in his tone. Shin-ah is glad that she cannot see his expression.

Moreso that he cannot see hers.

_ That bastard,  _ Abi called him.

Zeno can take being backstabbed. Threatened. Buried alive among shrieking dead. He’ll charge someone unarmed and trussed up -Shin-ah thinks perhaps he’s the only one in the world who can match Yona for sheer _ recklessness- _

...yet Abi was one of his dearest friends from  _ before.  _ Whether he knows it or not, Zeno holds him dear still...and those words, from  _ him,  _ will cut Zeno in a way he won’t heal from.

The decision is obvious.

“No. I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin. Hope y'all enjoyed the journey.

**Author's Note:**

> formatting fics on this site sucks.
> 
> When I started this fic an embarrassingly long time ago, I decided to do something ~cool~. I would change none of the dialogue or things that happened "on-screen" in the manga. In hindsight, I think that works better with movie fandoms than manga fandoms. But whatever. I'm going with "done is better than perfect" at this point.


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